Falling Down
by OurLadyGrem
Summary: Chara reigns as kingpin of the biggest mafia branch in the underground. Twin sister Frisk stumbles into the corrupted world, torn between the dangerous life of a mobster and working undercover for the FBI. Under the watchful eyes of vigilante Sans, rookie Papyrus, special agent Undyne, and more, Frisk will either fight for justice… or fight for survival. Undertale Mafia AU.
1. Of All The People

Undertale Mafia AU :: _Falling Down_

 _Chara reigns as kingpin of the biggest mafia branch in the underground. Twin sister Frisk stumbles into the corrupted world, torn between the dangerous life of a mobster or working undercover for the FBI. Under the watchful eyes of vigilante Sans, rookie Papyrus, special agent Undyne, and many other colourful characters, Frisk will either fight for justice… or fight for survival._

Rated **T** for mild violence and language.

* * *

Chapter One :: _Of All The People_

...

The rain poured down hard on Frisk's shoulders. She battled through the storm, stamped through puddles over the sidewalk, and struggled to see through the misty night air. She followed the halo of the street lights, desperately clutching on to her bag containing everything she owned. Life on the streets was rough for a girl in her early twenties. That morning, she'd been kicked out of the last shelter in the city on the day of the biggest hurricane in recent history. She exhaled deeply with exhaustion.

 _It's never easy..._

It was getting hard to see. The rain came down like bullets, cloaking the streets in bleak grey colours as if she had stepped into a film noir scene. Every moment was getting worse and worse. Waves of rain drenched her entire form. And just as she felt like she was practically wading through water, she desperately flew towards the nearest safe haven she could find.

The neon lights above her head tinged the sodden sidewalk with sharp crimson colours. It made the pavement beneath her feet look as if it ran red with blood. The entire area screamed danger. Up and down the streets, shutters covered the doors of abandoned buildings, glass lay beneath broken windows scattered all along the sidewalk, but Frisk paid it all no mind… even to the empty bullet shells rolling down the drains. All she cared about was the nearest shelter she could find. At the end of the day, her primary concern was her fight for survival.

However, she had no idea that she had accidentally stumbled into the worst area of the entire city. What she failed to notice was the neon sign overhead, flashing in warning, advertising the entrance into the underworld… and it simply read 'Underground'.

It was known as the darkest part of the city. Drifters, mercenaries, mobsters, and hitmen were rumored to gather there and discuss their trade, consult with their partners in shady businesses, and everything above and beyond the law. It was a safe haven, but not for Frisk. It was a safe spot for the worst known criminals across the city.

Frisk burst through the double doors of the club named Underground. It situated below the train tracks of an aboveground system, on the corner of a cluttered city street, where the air smelled of oil and sewage. But inside, Frisk was almost stunted by the thick smog of cigarettes attacking her senses. She squinted her eyes through the dark room, and froze on the spot as she finally realised where she was. Suddenly, Frisk found herself amongst a lively crowd of drunkards and gangsters.

Her eyes grew wide as she'd unwittingly fallen into dangerous territory. _A den of wolves._ She shook the rainwater from her coat and frantically brushed her fingers through her chestnut hair. The messy strands clung to her face like a second coat of skin, and her breath was heavy with exhaustion. With a hard gulp, her mind raced with one impulsive thought:

 _God… I could use a drink…_

She exhaled as she regained her composure. She knew it would be a horrible idea to freak out in the midst of the most terrifying crowd in the world. Carefully, Frisk walked in a confident stride in her worn-out boots towards the bar on her left. The crowd was loud and buzzed with excitement, stimulated by the entertainment on stage. A woman with a breathy voice sang a slow ballad in fishnet stockings whilst the men at her feet howled like hungry wolves, waving money in their hands. _Just another crowd of suckers looking for cheap laughs and thrills, fuelled by drugs and alcohol to cloud their better judgement._ Frisk kept her distance as the atmosphere made her dizzy. She hid her face beneath the collar of her coat as she pulled up a stool at the bar.

It seemed like a slow night. The only barman at their post was a man with fiery red hair with rectangle glasses hanging at the end of his nose. He was dressed in a slick grayscale bartender suit of the finest quality. Frisk curiously read the nametag attached to his chest – 'Grillby'. Frisk's eyebrows rose as she internally praised his good looks, and her inviting half-smile caught his attention quickly. When he leant across the counter, their gazes locked, and Frisk didn't waste time to give her demands.

"One Bacardi and coke, please."

He scanned her appearance, and took note of the dirt clinging to her clothes and her hair. Grillby silently scrutinised her as he waited for some proof of identity… or at the very least, some proof of payment. Frisk frowned, insulted by his judgemental gaze, and dug her hands deep into her tattered pockets to fish out crumbled notes. The barman noticed the grime clinging to Frisk's fingertips as she slid the money towards him, and promptly prepared the drink for her. 'She must be living in poor conditions, that is to say if she's living anywhere at all,' he thought. Grillby slid the money away in refusal as he passed her the drink. Frisk's head tilted in confusion.

"What's the idea, huh? I got the money to pay for this, why won't you take it?"

The barman stretched his hand over the counter, and affectionately held her dirty hands for a moment before a small smile pulled on his lips. He rested a finger against his chest, and silently let her know that he'd bought it for her. And Frisk breathed out a grateful sigh.

"Thank you. Really. Thanks for this."

In no time at all, she tightly gripped the glass and downed a swig as if it's the only drink she's had in days. She gulped loudly and crudely, emphasizing her lack of feminine tact. Grillby continued to watch her, intrigued, until she sat the drink aside to lean over the counter, and shouted over the music, "Hey, you got any vacancies here? I'm looking for a job, and this place seems nice enough…"

Grillby stifled a snort at that remark. As Frisk raised a suspicious eyebrow, Grillby held out his hand as he gestured her to wait at the bar. He disappeared from her sight as he suddenly became lost in the crowd. Frisk took this time to scan her surroundings - she noted the poor lighting, as faint tinges of gold glossed over the interior from small wall-embedded lights. There were groups of men in business suits in shadier areas of the room, and waitresses gathering crowds around them as drunk men clamber desperately for their attention. And through her perceptive eyes, Frisk can make out the gleam of every weapon hidden on each guy.

 _There's a knife hidden in that man's pocket... his friend is hiding a revolver in a holster underneath his suit… but he doesn't know that the man sitting behind him has a small pistol tucked away in his sock…_

There was no doubt about it. Frisk had fallen into the heart of the underworld, and she was right in the central vein of it all. Every man was on the edge with their fingers lingering towards their triggers, and they acted as if any moment anyone could open fire. If anyone so wished it, the rest of the evening would become a desperate battle for survival. Frisk could feel it in the air – the tension was agonisingly thick. It was only a matter of time and circumstance until the scene turned into an all-out war. And Frisk had to wonder…

… _what's keeping them from doing it? From the way they're acting, it's as if something is keeping them all under strict surveillance. Maybe something is… or maybe_ someone _is…_

All of a sudden, Frisk was brought out of her deep thoughts as Grillby suddenly laid a heavy hand over her shoulder. Frisk almost jumped out of her skin as she turned over her shoulder with wide eyes, only to be greeted with an approving nod of his head. She didn't have time to question his silence as the mute barman beckoned her to follow him. She was constantly kept in sight as Grillby led her across the floor of drunken patrons. Frisk looked totally out of place in her scruffy coat and unkempt hair, even as she clumsily weaved through the crowds.

The area grew darker and quieter as Grillby led her further into the interior towards a hidden part of the room. There were lines of booths situated against the walls, decorated by elegant curtains for privacy purposes. And Grillby guided Frisk past every single one until she reached the booth at the very end. The wall-mounted light flashed on and off, as the bulb inside was barely able to blink to life. It sparked up every now and again, but the shadows had almost completely taken siege of that corner of the room.

And suddenly, a singular fiery glow burning one end of a cigarette flared into existence. It hung out of the mouth of a stranger sat within the booth, and almost immediately, Frisk felt nervous in his presence.

The stranger was encased in darkness. The faint glow of his burning cigarette barely revealed any of his features. Frisk could just about make out the pale skin over his scarred hands, as his fingers clutched on to his lighter with a glaring image of a skull decorated on the side. Vague hints of a scruffy stubble strewn along his strong jawline. But nothing else stuck out more in her mind than the terrifying wide smile on his lips. She swallowed before dropping on to the seat across from him. After Grillby left her with the mysterious stranger, Frisk felt helpless and stranded.

"Relax, kid. I don't bite. Sometimes." His wheezy laugh sounded unnatural, almost as if this stranger had lost his mind years ago. But Frisk refused to be intimidated. She laid her hands flat against the table between them as she leant forward, determined to appear unafraid of him, and sternly asked the question.

"Are you able to get me a job in this place?"

"Sure I can. What do you think we're doing now?" He skilfully sprinkled tobacco along flimsy paper in his hand, then he brought it to his lips to quickly lick along the edges. And as he rolled the paper into a neat tube, his own cigarette bounced between his gritted teeth as he offered to her, "You want one?"

"If it's alright with you, I'd love one."

"Heh. So polite. You don't need to be so formal with me, kid. Where do you think you are right now?" He told her with a manic smile and held the newly-rolled cigarette to her. Almost immediately, Frisk grabbed it out of his hands and wrapped her pouted lips around the filter. She leant across the table, squinted her eyes through the darkness, and her eyes widened as the stranger leant forward to tap the end of his cigarette against hers.

As the flames burnt between them, the blazing glow of the cigarettes lit up the strangers face and revealed the piercing icy blue irises in his eyes. Frisk inhaled the smoke, and inhaled in shock, as she was completely caught off-guard by the handsome features of this stranger. His head was shaved, with an incredibly faint shade over his skull where it was closely cut to the grain, and his eyes were clear with intrigue. His large smile accentuated his high cheekbones, and deepened the terrifying shadows beneath his calculating gaze. And from the shape of his silhouette in the darkness, Frisk was thrown completely by his robust build. He looked tough, and his demeanour looked intimidating, but attractive.

"Are you a bodyguard?" Frisk asked without thinking.

"You could say that. I work for the boss here. She's a real hard-ass, I'll tell you that much. And if you really wanna work here too, you're gonna have your work cut out for you. It can get a little… too much for some people, if you catch my drift." He leant back against his seat as he exhaled a large cloud of smoke above their heads. But even as he was swallowed up by the darkness once again, Frisk caught on to the gleam in his clear eyes as his smile curled into a sinister grin, "Personally, I don't think you'll have too much of a hard time here. It seems to me that you might know the boss fairly well…"

Frisk raised an eyebrow at him, and pouted her lips in confusion.

"I don't think so. I've never been to this part of the city before."

"Is that right? Well, that just makes this a hell of a lot more interesting." He laughed from the depths of his throat, almost as if he was personally amused by this. Before Frisk could query him any further, the stranger suddenly shuffled forward on his seat until he practically ensnared her with his threatening gaze, conflicting with his cheery tone of voice, "Anyway, I'd say that the ice is broken by now. Let's get introductions out of the way. I'm Sans. People 'round here know me as 'the skeleton'. I don't know exactly why, but that nickname just kinda stuck one day…"

"Maybe it's because of that lighter you have there." Frisk chimed in as she pointed to the skull-faced decoration on his lighter. Sans let out another wheezy laugh, and his fingers impatiently flickered over the zip as the flame sparked to life. The way he played with the fire was almost terrifying.

"Maybe so. Maybe not. It all depends on what you hear. See, kid, around here… your reputation spawns a name for you, whether you want it to or not. If you stick around long enough, I'm sure you'll get one too. Just give it time, you'll see what I mean."

"I think I got it." Frisk nodded slowly in understanding, and she kept her voice from wavering as she then dared to ask, "So, skeleton, you must have _some_ idea how you got that nickname. What did you do to earn it?"

Sans remained silent. He took a long drag of his cigarette as he kept his heavy gaze on her, and never once faltered away from her. His sleazy grin never once moved the entire time. Frisk knew then that he was purposely withdrawing this information from her, and she became hesitant to ask more about it. Her time on the streets taught her to never ask too many questions, as she learnt quickly that nobody likes a snoop, and so she simply accepted Sans' silence.

 _Maybe it's better if didn't know too much about Sans' past anyway._

Frisk had been so caught up in the sight of his eyes locked on to hers that she hadn't paid much attention to the cigarette hanging idly between her fingertips. The ashes held on by a thread as the light went out, and she glanced back to Sans with a slight hint of a blush flourishing over her features.

"You need that lighting up again, buddy?" He asked her with an amused smile, and Frisk nodded silently.

Again, he leant over the table with his cigarette burning brightly, anticipating to meet the end of Frisk's cigarette once again. Bashfully, Frisk inched forward with a face coloured beetroot without mercy. The closer she got, the more prominent she could smell the musky scent of him. And as their cigarettes finally met in the middle, Frisk's eyes flickered up to his as she slowly inhaled, and concentrated on his features highlighted by the heated colours of the flame. His ocean-stained eyes were so clear, she could make out the blazing embers in his gaze as he met up with her intense stare. Their faces were so close, the cigarettes measured the gap between them, until Frisk slowly pulled away to lift her chin to the air, and exhaled the smoke without breaking her gaze from him.

Sans pulled back eventually, and his smile finally fell away. His eyes squinted as he continued to study her. He'd never seen someone carry themselves the way Frisk did, and it was fascinating. It was in the way she moved, in the way her hardened stare kept someone in place as if she was desperately asserting dominance and exuding confidence. Sans couldn't mistake that specific demeanour – her tough exterior told him that this girl has been through absolute hell and back. _There's only one other person I know who has this kind of presence… and that's…_

"Y'know, I don't think I'm the one best suited to interview you for this job."

"You haven't even asked me any questions yet."

"I know, I know." Sans wheezed another laugh, "But trust me, I'm not the one who should decide to take you on. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty damn good at judging a person's character, but you… I think there's someone else that will a better job than me in this case."

Frisk looked surprised as Sans suddenly lifted from his seat, and shuffled out of the booth as he buried his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. And almost by command, Frisk followed suit by promptly shoving her cigarette in the same ashtray, despite the fact that it still had plenty of tobacco left in it. Sans' eyebrows rose as he watched her, and smirked with approval.

 _You're already the perfect candidate for this position, kid. Just follow the instructions and don't ask too many questions. But I'm definitely not the one to make that call just yet...  
_

Once again, Frisk crossed the room and weaved inelegantly through the crowds of stumbling drunkards. Unfortunately for her, inebriated men had started to recognise Frisk as another pretty woman amongst the other waitresses. One business-suited man had even grabbed a hold of Frisk's shoulders, shoved a beer bottle next to her face, and asked with a slurred drawl,

"Hey baby… damn, you are gorgeous! You're new here, am I right? I know, otherwise I'd have remembered a pretty face like yours…"

Frisk took a deep breath, closed her eyes as she cleared her mind, before she heavily shoved him away and stamped her sharp heel into the base of his foot. As the man howled in pain and fell back to clutch on to his throbbing toes, Frisk shot him an intimidating scowl from over her shoulder. Without an ounce of emotion in her voice, she warned him only once,

"Touch me again, asshole, and we're going to have a problem."

Friends of the man scrambled to scoop him up from the ground, and perched him on to a nearby chair as they all stared back in shock and horror. Their faces were white with fear, their mouths were hung open as they were completely lost for words. At first, Frisk was confused to see how they were suddenly so petrified of her. At the very least, she figured that the drunkard would be pretty pissed off after being assaulted so violently. Her feet were already squared apart in a defensive stance, and her fists were aching for a fight... but her confusion promptly ended when she overheard one of the frantic men shout above the panicked chatter,

"Don't you know who that woman is? You fucking idiot! Why don't you think next time you decide to hit on _the boss_ …"

 _The boss?_

Frisk squinted in confusion, until she figured that this might be the person that Sans was about to introduce her too. Then, as Sans turned over his shoulder to throw a knowing smile her way, Frisk confirmed it then. The boss was exactly who she was going to meet. Quickly, she patted down the remnants of the dirty rainwater clinging to her coat, and nervously combed her fingers through her unkempt hair to untangle the knots.

Sans led her back through an archway, covered only by a tattered curtain. She peered over Sans' shoulders to catch a glimpse of the path ahead. The wide corridor was lined by wall-mounted lamps, faintly lighting the way towards the backstage. Interesting looking characters scattered and lingered around, and the further Sans walked with Frisk in tow, the shadier the characters seemed to become. Frisk quickened her paces and kept close to Sans as she passed a large group of scary looking men, openly carrying an assortment of creative weapons. Frisk wished she hadn't seen one of the goons holding a broken baseball bat, with a jagged rusted nail pierced through it. She gulped as she had to step out of the way of a paranoid looking woman with blotchy white skin, and her claw-like hands clutched over a paper bag filled with pills and needles.

And as this woman had momentarily caught Frisk's attention, she accidentally turned too sharp and bumped straight into a small-framed woman hidden beneath a large trench coat.

"Oh… oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see where I was going." Frisk sincerely apologised, and helped the woman regain balance on her unsteady feet. As she did, Frisk caught sight of the nervous-looking woman in large coke-bottle glasses. She hid short blonde hair beneath a panama hat, and frantically clasped the collar of her trench coat over her face as she quickly stepped out of Frisk's grasp.

"It's… it's a-alright… I w-wasn't looking where I w-was going e-either… sorry!"

The mysterious blonde-haired woman wriggled away, and suddenly began running down the corridor with her hat pulled desperately over her white-flushed face. Frisk watched curiously after her, until Sans suddenly laid a hand over Frisk's shoulder. He beared a distant smile strewn over his vacant expression.

"It's best that you forget that one's face, kid. She's none of our concern."

Frisk picked up the serious undertones beneath his friendly demeanour, and she knew that this wasn't a request. This was an order. Immediately, she left it alone.

Eventually, they finally reached the darkened corridor of their journey where an isolated doorway was situated at the very end. Sans made sure that Frisk was safely standing right beside him as he quickly glanced at her. His scrutinising eyes studied Frisk for a moment, and noticed how at ease she appeared to be despite the circumstances. That's when Frisk noticed a strain in his smile. _He's anxious._ And as he straightened his black leather jacket over his shoulders, despite it being one size too big, he cleared his throat as he knocked on the door.

 _Knock. Knock._

"Come back later. We're doing business in here." An agitated voice called out from the other side.

"You're supposed to answer with 'who's there', but I guess you're not in the mood for bad jokes right now, huh?" He laughed as he slightly nudged Frisk with a roll of his eyes, "Anyway it's Sans. I got someone here that the boss might like to meet."

"Can't this wait?"

"I was thinkin' that it might be a good idea to let this kid see just how we do business around here. C'mon, it'll be good education."

A pair of muffled voices sounded from beneath the door, and suddenly the nerves began to pick up within Frisk. She tried not to let it show, and she hid her hands behind her back so she could fidget with her fingers. An oddly comforting habit. And after a few moments of silent discussion, a chain suddenly scratched and fell away on the other side of the door. Sans stepped back with a supportive hand laid over Frisk's shoulder, and she took a step back as well. Immediately, Frisk clutched her chest as she felt her heartbeat running a mile a minute.

As the door creaked open, they're greeted by a dirty-blonde haired man with his arm leant against the doorframe. His long scruffy bangs fell attractively over his hardened green eyes as he heavily examined Sans with an impatient grimace, which looked almost unnatural for his boyish features. His shoulder-length hair, faint facial hair upon his chin and upper lip, and worn-out plaid shirt made his appearance amusedly resemble the popular alternative style of men from the 90's. This thought went through Sans' head every time he saw him.

"Alright, where's the newbie?"

"Look a little to your left, Asriel. You can't miss her." Sans joked with a large unfaltering grin.

Immediately after the first glance, Asriel's mouth drops open. Frisk blinked in surprise as she certainly didn't expect this kind of reaction. His eyes shot open at the sight of her as his hand fell away from the doorway. For a moment, he was completely speechless, and he moved his hands dramatically around like a mime as he searched for any kind of coherent thought, to no avail. And without thinking, Frisk held up her hand and simply waved.

"Um, hello. Nice to meet-"

Suddenly, Asriel dared to lean forward as he studied her face up close. He looked her up and down, as he was not afraid to look over every inch of her, and Frisk felt her entire figure heat up in response. She stepped back and covered her arms over her chest, almost as if he was able to look through her tattered coat. Sans laughed boisterously once again.

"Back up, Asriel, you're making the poor girl uncomfortable. Man, you'd think he's never heard of personal boundaries, huh?"

He appeared as if he was in a trance just by looking at her, and acted as if he'd never witnessed another human being in existence before. Then, Asriel returned to the doorway to lean against it with a quizzical look plastered over his boyish features. Even as he leant his head against the doorframe, his gaze never broke away from hers. Then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he let his thoughts slip,

"You look just like her…"

Frisk was starting to become frustrated with this, as she began to feel as if she was out of the loop. It felt as if everyone was in on some kind of joke, and Frisk was the punchline. So, with an annoyed huff, she crossed her arms and finally stood her ground against the two boys.

"Look, I'm just trying to get a job here, that's all. If this is part of some cruel prank, then I'll just take my leave already…"

"No, no, um… wait here for a second!" Asriel suddenly sounded desperate as reached out to grab a hold of Frisk's shoulders. She was about to shrug him off, but Asriel looked as if he was practically begging. He was visibly sweating under her gaze, and he tried once more to convince her to stay, "Just… wow, you look even more like her when you're angry like that… oh man, sorry… okay, just... just stay here for a little while longer and it'll all make sense, I promise. The boss will be done any moment now, but… you should stay here and watch. Okay?"

With an exasperated sigh, Frisk passed a quick glance to Sans at her side. His ever-present smile baited her to look inside the room. As Asriel stepped aside and lazily leant back against the doorframe, Frisk curiously looked on ahead. She quickly scanned the room and noted the classy wooden furniture laid across the room, the striped blinds over the windows that barely let in the moonlight, before she finally rested her eyes on the group of people standing in the centre of it all. There were two burly man staring down at the ground, where another smaller man had been laying on his back against the carpet, tied up and blind-folded against his will.

And suddenly, Frisk's world came immediately crashing down the moment she spotted the final figure in the room. The one that Asriel watched with affection, the one that Sans intensely scrutinized… the one person in the whole entire world that Frisk had not expected to see.

"It's you… after all these years… it's you…" Frisk whispered under her breath, and clutched even tighter on to her chest.

On top of an expensive-looking office desk, a woman sat with her long legs crossed and her claws clasped on to the surface as she nudged herself to the very edge of it. Her nails were as sharp as her crimson heels. Her black stockings laced over her shapely legs. A military jacket hung loosely over her shoulders. There wasn't a hair out of place as her chestnut-coloured bob cut framed her face, and her cheekbones were accentuated by the blended cherry-coloured blush over her snow tinged skin. Her heavy-lidded eyes were as blood-red as the lipstick painted on her lips. With her head rested against her palm, she looked almost bored out of her mind, even as she idly swung a pistol in her other hand, with her finger hooked delicately around the trigger.

"I don't like being disrespected." She suddenly started. The room grew silent, her sharp voice echoed, and her overwhelming presence filled the air with a thick terrifying tension. "When you start a business like I have, you keep certain core principles in mind, and you religiously stick by them no matter what. Mine are plain and simple: never get disrespected by anybody. Ever. Am I making myself clear? Are you even listening to me right now?"

The blind-folded man wriggled around the floor in terror, frantically nodding his head in compliance. He grunted as one of the burly goons pressed his foot down against the man's chest. He choked from the heavy impact, and his breathing hitched in his throat. All he could hear was the wooden desk creaking as her heels clicked to the ground.

"Tonight, you made me go back on my most imperative principle in my business. You disrespected me… by stealing from me. How much was it? One thousand? Two thousand? Yeah, that was it. You took out two grand of petty cash _every_ month after every pick up. Didn't you think I'd notice when the money came up short? Don't you think I keep track of my own income? Do you think I'm stupid?" Slowly, she stepped across the floorboards. As she hovered over the helpless man, she bent down as her eyes squared against his, covered by the blindfold, "That's what you think I am, right? You think I'm stupid. You're disrespecting my business and my intelligence. You're real scum of the Earth, you know that?"

Without another word, she pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead. Before he could even attempt to scream, the silencer bucked in her hand as she pulled the trigger. Frisk wordlessly gasped. She felt her racing heart rise up to her throat in seconds. It was almost like a scene from a movie. Blood splattered across the floorboards, scattering the remains of the man's head in a gruesome trail against the walls, and sprinkled over the burly goon's shoes.

Then, the woman took a fistful of the dead man's clothing, and lifted his body from the ground. She stared down at the hole in his head as he lolled lifelessly to the side, and a sharp shiver ran down Frisk's spine as a maniacal grin lit up the woman's face. The red lipstick framed the sinister grin, and her widened eyes shimmered with the gleam of deadly pleasure she took out of a fresh kill. As she dug her nails into his cheeks, taking his chin between her unnaturally elongated fingers, she cheerfully spoke as if he could still hear her.

"No one disrespects the mafia. _No one._ I won't ever allow that. Anyone who dares to try will answer to the end of my pistol. The steam from a freshly used gun barrel speaks more than I could possibly say in a lifetime…"

Before she could continue any further, Asriel interrupted her monologue as he cleared his throat. Frisk was completely slack-jawed by Sans and Asriel's calm demeanour, and her frantic gaze switched between the two in disbelief. She couldn't understand how they were so unfazed by the sight of the scene. She couldn't understand how Sans and Asriel were completely composed in the presence of this psychotic killer. And she couldn't understand… why it had to be _her_ …

Finally, the grinning girl turned around, and caught sight of Frisk standing in the doorway. And her eyes widened as far as they could go.

"…Frisk…"

Her voice was unusually distant, almost as if the simple sight of Frisk had forced her to confront her past. She stumbled to her feet as she dropped the corpse and the gun to the ground, almost as if she had completely forgotten its existence. Frisk hesitantly walked inside the room. She straightened her back and evened out her breathing. Frisk couldn't afford to lose her mind, especially in front of _that woman_. Even if they stood over a whole stack of bodies, Frisk refused to urge to scream in terror.

The two women stood in silence for a moment, silently taking in the sight of each other, and the onlookers could definitely see the resemblance between them. Although one was dressed in rags and the other was beautifully painted from head to toe, the way they kept each other in their hardened gaze was eerily similar. They had both lived through a broken past, and they both understood their pain. It was a difficult moment to fully take in. But Frisk dared to break the silence first,

"It's been a long time." She said with a strained smile, and desperately pushed the events of moments ago to the very back of her mind for the sake of her own sanity. And with a sigh, she officially greeted her, "Hello… Chara."

Suddenly, without any warning, Chara pounced and wrapped her arms around Frisk's shoulders. She tightly clasped a hold of Frisk as she buried her head into her sister's neck, desperate to hold her. Frisk stifled a shriek as she reluctantly took hold of her sister, and tried her best to avoid her eyes drifting towards the blood circling on the ground. She felt almost intimidated by the strong grip of her shoulders. She finally realised Chara's strength didn't only rely on the power of a gun. She had muscles, and the scars on her knuckles told Frisk that she used them often.

"Look at how big you've become, Frisk! You're no longer my little sister, that's for damn sure!"

As Frisk wriggled away from the embrace, Chara kept a firm lock of her shoulders in her claw-like grasp, almost as if she wasn't willing to let go just yet. Frisk forced a laugh.

"I'm only nine minutes later than you, Chara. But then again, you've never let me forget that, have you?"

"And I never will. Oh Frisk, it's good to see your face again. Even though you're dressed like you've just been picked off the streets." After a few moments, Chara finally put two and two together, and stared wide-eyed in the shock of it all, "My god, you have been on the streets all this time, haven't you? For so long, I was under the impression that you were shacked up in some cosy house in some far-off corner of the world, when you've actually been living right under my nose! Well, I'm just glad to see you're still alive. I've had sleepless nights wondering how you suddenly dropped off the face of the earth!"

"Well, I have been living off the grid." Frisk admitted, and shakily opened up about her troubled past, "Since we were separated all those years ago, I was... sold to a warehouse for some corporate owned cartel. They forced me to make shoes all day, like a prisoner of some slave labour camp. But once the police raided and busted the entire operation, I was freed. But with no money, no family, no home... I had nothing to fall back on. I have no job, no experience outside of shoe repair… I've been drifting from shelter to shelter, begging for food on the streets… I just want a job and a place I can rest…"

Chara squeezed her shoulders with a supportive smile. Her sharp eyebrows furrowed as she genuinely appeared too upset to hear more of her sister's past. Then, as she glanced back up to Sans and Asriel waiting in anticipation, Chara grinned all the more widely as she nodded with a tear in her eye.

"You don't need to worry about that anymore, Frisk. From now on, I'll be the one to take care of you. Consider this place your new home from now on. I'll set you up with an apartment, give you everything you could ever want, and of course… I'll let you work here!"

Immediately as she ended her proposal with that, Frisk's heart dropped down to her stomach. She felt nauseous as the harsh reality finally began to sink in. Her face turned as white as the bloodless face of the corpse at her feet.

"You'll… let me work here? Are… are you saying…?"

With a quick glance at the two men at the doorway, their expressions were hidden in the sinister shadows of the evening darkness. Frisk felt the exact same feeling she had when she was first sold through human trafficking. And immediately, Frisk felt trapped. She had no idea what she had stumbled into. Until the moment Chara had spoke it out loud, with a maniacal grin upon her blood-soaked lips,

"That's right, Frisk. Looks like I'll be your boss from now on."

Frisk looked on in horror.

… _why does it feel like I've just handed over my soul?_

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter One End. Chapter Two soon…_

* * *

 **Thanks everyone for reading!**

 **I'll be updating this story alongside my other Undertale work, and you can keep updated on the status of my work by checking my profile every now and again. I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! I've been obsessed with crime dramas and mafia storylines for so long, so this fic has been a long time coming! Please let me know what you thought in a review! Andd a favourite and a follow is always appreciated if you liked it! I can't wait to get my feet dug into this new story! Cheers again, and I'll see you all very soon~!**


	2. Breakfast At Muffet's

Chapter Two :: _Breakfast At Muffet's_

…

Once Frisk signed the contract, everything suddenly began to feel real. In a matter of hours, Chara had arranged her new life. She had food readily brought to her, a plethora of clothes to choose from, and a set of mysterious keys dangling from a heart-shaped keychain. Chara happily explained them all in great detail. There were two keys for her new apartment, two keys for a safety deposit box to keep her money inside, and two keys for her brand new car.

At first, Frisk didn't believe any of this to be true. There wasn't any possible way that Chara could arrange so much for one person in such a short amount of time, but she didn't dare to question it further. There was a sinister look in her sister's eyes that hid many dangerous secrets, and Frisk didn't feel curious enough to find them all out. After witnessing exactly how she conducts her business, Frisk knew it was best to stay out of it. She intended to stay silent, keep her head down, and move on forward without causing any more trouble than its worth…

But the moment Chara and the rest of the gang lead her out back, Frisk wondered how much louder she could possibly get when she saw the set of wheels waiting for her there.

"What'd you think, kid?" Sans asked her, running his fingers tenderly over a set of handlebars.

"You got me a motorcycle? Are you serious? Tell me you're not serious."

Chara suddenly wrapped her long arm around Frisk's shoulders, laughing loudly, "Don't listen to that comedian, sis. He's just another fanatical gearhead showing off his ride at every opportunity he can get. The car I've arranged for you is actually waiting in your privately owned parking space next to your brand spanking new apartment complex. I've asked Sans to take you there and help you get settled in."

"I… I don't know what to say." Frisk was honestly speechless. After a lifetime of poverty on the run from the law, it was almost too good to be true. She had a hard time accepting it all at once. Chara could see the struggle in her eyes. So, she affectionately rested her head over Frisk's hair, and squeezed her shoulders protectively,

"You don't have to say anything else except 'yes' from now on. I'll take care of you, I promise. No one is ever going to separate us again. I won't allow it to happen. Ever."

Once again, Frisk was tragically torn between feeling overwhelmingly grateful… and feeling helplessly trapped. Frisk felt claustrophobic in her embrace. Her sharp gaze could cut through metal. With an excited grin, Chara asked with a wink,

"You still like sedans, right?"

"Yeah, I do. Why do you ask… oh!" Frisk suddenly caught on as Chara cocked an eyebrow at her. As Frisk's mouth dropped open into a shocked oval, her voice was barely audible as she was reluctant to ask, "…you didn't get me one, did you?"

"You're damn right I did!" Chara could barely keep her uncontrollable smile from widening all the more, "Frisk, I'm not lying to you when I say that I'll take care of you. You name it, and I can give you anything that you desire. It's not like before when we were small-time teenage hustlers. You remember when we used to steal car parts from rich people's homes and sold them to the black market? Well, it's never going to be like that again. We're too smart for that. Now we have people to do it _for_ us. How sweet is that? We're the ones running the show this time! These years I've spent apart from you… they've been _unbearable_. I've spent it all on working every single day to build my empire. And now it's all finally paying off. Now that I have you back, I want to share my success with you. So please, allow me to spoil you as much as I want!"

Frisk could only stare back, wide-eyed in complete disbelief. It was almost as if she was looking into the eyes of a stranger. She was far from the sister she once knew and grew up with. Chara wore a painted mask; desperate to appear professional on the outside, but Frisk couldn't recognise the stranger underneath.

"It feels so strange to see you here with me again. It's like you're back from the dead, and seeing you with all this money and power… it's like you've taken the world by storm in your wake."

"Oh Frisk, I love how you worded that. Then again, you've always been able to describe the world in your own unique way. I've missed you so much. You're the breath of fresh air I need in this rotten community. And yes, I'll admit I'm a pretty big part of it now. I have blood on my hands, I won't lie." Chara tried her best to appear remorseful before her sister, but a small grinning tug on the corner of her lips threatened to give her away, "But you understand, don't you? It's always been this way. You know it's just business. We've dealt with life-or-death situations for as long as we can remember. So you must understand, right? You don't think I'm a bad person, do you?"

Frisk felt incredibly uncomfortable, almost as if there was a glaring spotlight on her at that moment. Her eyes darted over her sister's shoulders towards Asriel. He leant back against the brick wall, oozing with grime and decay, with a cigarette burning in his mouth and a cold look in his eyes as he watched the two sisters vigilantly. Frisk could tell he would take Chara's side in an instant if there was a disagreement between them. Frisk knew by the way he affectionately watches over her. _He seems to care about Chara a lot._ So then, Frisk moved her gaze to Sans in desperation, but he was no help either. She was met only by his trademark grin as he waited patiently and silently beside his bike. He let it be known that he had no intention of interfering with Chara. Frisk was on her own.

And so, she reluctantly nodded as she told her sister everything she wanted to hear.

"I don't think you're a bad person. How could I when you've given me a place to stay and a chance to start over? Thank you, Chara. I guess I owe you my life."

Chara was certainly satisfied with that answer. She mentally took note of this promise as she cupped her sister's face between her hands, and smiled as innocently as her devilish features could allow. Frisk hoped with all of her heart and soul that this won't horribly backfire in the coming future.

Then, all of a sudden, Frisk was taken by surprise as Chara revealed a cap from behind her back. She quickly pulled it over Frisk's head without any sort of warning. Frisk gasped as she felt the hefty military cap cast a shadow over her eyes.

"Take this as a personal gift from me to you." Chara told her cheerfully with a smirk, "That military cap was part of the first uniform I ever received from the army, along with this jacket I have on now. They're all tokens of my past, remnants of my glory days where my impressive kill count on the field earned me these medals of excellent service. But it's strange… it's almost as if I need _permission_ to kill now. Because the moment I perform the exact same duties on home soil, those medals mean nothing and I'm suddenly branded as a monster. Funny old world we live in, isn't it?"

"…it really is." Frisk nodded hesitantly, and adjusted the cap on her head to lift the peak over her eyes. Then, before she could say anything else, they were all interrupted by the loud rumbling that echoed from Frisk's empty stomach. Chara almost doubled over with a burst of laughter, whilst Frisk's face burnt up like a furnace.

"Oh Frisk, you must be starving after living on scraps for so long. We'll have plenty of time to catch up later. Sans, treat her to breakfast, will you? And hurry! My little sister is withering away as we speak! So you better ride fast before she snatches your 'skeleton' nickname away from you."

He chuckled, almost bitterly, kept up his carefree smile as he swung his leg over his bike, and replied bitingly,

"If you keep up those kind of jokes, at least I won't have to worry about you snatching away my other nickname."

Frisk hopped over the back of the bike, and shuffled forward to hug his torso tightly for safety. As she nestled her head against his back, she felt the growing heat from his neck prick at her skin.

"What's your other nickname?" Frisk curiously asked.

Sans laughed, "The comedian."

He revved the engine to life. Before Frisk could even begin to brace herself, the bike roared excitedly as the wheels furiously scratched against the road. They sped away, leaving behind clouds of dirt rising from the skid marks etched into the ground. Chara watched after them, squinting her eyes through the dirty smog in the air, and scowled with silent rage. Asriel recognised that look in an instant. Chara was not amused by Sans' last remark, at all. In times like these, he was unsure on how to deal with her. Chara had a naturally hot-and-cold personality, and no one knew this better than her off-again-on-again boyfriend, Asriel.

In that instance, he gambled a move by slowly approaching her by her side. Then, boldly, he wrapped his arm carefully around her waist. He wanted to let her know that he was there for her. He wanted to be able to cheer her up in any way he could. He was so hopelessly obsessed and in love with her to just leave her be… but she stared onwards, motionless with a distant gaze in her eyes. He was at least grateful that she let him hold her this time.

Even so, he wished… for once… she would look at him exactly the way he would look at her.

…

…

Sans sped down the city streets, his bike roared and weaved effortlessly through the few cars on the road at that early hour of the morning. It had barely turned six, and the sun was only just beginning to rise over the horizon. The blue sky was a mixture of deep ocean blue, descending into a heated burst of blood-red over the skyline, which made the city look as if it was on fire.

And still, Frisk's mind was barely there. So much had happened over the course of one evening, and suddenly she found herself on the back of a stranger's bike, heading towards the home she never had. It was a surreal experience. As she shot down the road with Sans tight in her embrace, she honestly believed for a moment that she was floating in an ethereal realm, far from the reality she once knew.

Finally, Sans pulled up to a bike rack outside of a restaurant along the sea front. The air smelt salty and damp, and the neon signs blinked through cracked glass above their heads. Although some letters were missing, Frisk could make out the name – 'Muffet's Diner'.

"I go here all the time with my brother. It's got a great view of the sea, and the food ain't bad either."

Sans held the door open for her, and she walked through the diner entrance with curious eyes. The interior looked fairly standard from the outside, but the decoration on the inside was uniquely original. The colour scheme was an unusual choice of silver and plum, and the violet neon bulbs coated the area in a glaring purple hue. But as the sun rose and penetrated the interior through the windows, the plum colours slowly began to fade into an unusual combination of crimson and violet. And finally, Frisk noticed the ceiling draped with white elegant strings in a strange webbed pattern.

Frisk took a seat in the farthest booth of the diner, and shuffled near to the window to peer outside to the sea front. The street lights were still on, barely anyone was around. Quiet saxophone tunes were heard faintly through a jukebox-themed radio behind the counter. Again, Frisk felt as if she was far from the real world, even as the waitress took their orders of pancakes and coffee. Their voices sounded like static, as if they were speaking through a phone with bad connection. Sans relaxed into the chair opposite from Frisk, and it took all of her concentration to finally ask,

"So you work for my sister?"

His eyebrows rose, surprised by that sudden question, before his gaze wandered into the distance.

"I guess you could say that. She hired me for a few gigs, she recognised my potential, then she hired me indefinitely. What can I say, huh? I must be pretty good at what I do."

"And what do you do?" Frisk rose her chin to the air and squinted her eyes suspiciously, "From what I saw, I'm guessing it's not simple doorman jobs at that club my sister owns. What kind of bodyguard are you?"

"It's best not to categorise people, kid." He said monotonously as he pulled out his pack of tobacco, and idly began rolling two cigarettes, "In this business, you gotta be able to adapt. You gotta be resourceful. You'll never do the same thing twice, because life is unpredictable. So you have to be unpredictable too…"

"Oh, don't. Please. Don't talk to me like I don't know what it's like. Because, trust me, I know! My sister and I were born into this shitty business. Hell, we were practically bred for this line of work! So don't give me any patronizing crap, huh? Have a little more respect for me than that." Frisk sighed. The annoyance quickly wore away as the fiery light in her eyes suddenly faded, "...sorry, I shouldn't be too defensive. In a way, you're right to lecture me. I need all the advice I can take. I'm not like Chara. My sister... she's much better suited for this kind of life than I ever was..."

Sans picked up on the way her voice trailed away into the distance, and the way her vacant gaze followed the direction of the sea out the window. He curiously watched her, coated in hues of plum and blood-red, and recognised the pain in her expression. As much as she appeared to be guarded, Sans could still see right through her. _She's been dealt with too many raw deals in her life. Too much for a young girl._ Then, as he rolled the cigarettes, he commented lightly,

"You two separated at one point."

"Yeah? What of it?"

"Just stating the obvious." He said cheerfully with a mischievous grin, "And, admittedly, I was wondering if you'd expand on the thought."

"What else is there to say?" She snorted with a roll of her eyes.

But she froze when their eyes met, caught in his intense stare. Frisk felt her heartbeat racing. His eyes narrowed, his gaze heavy with intrigue, like nothing in the world could shake his focus away from her. Frisk felt as if his eyes alone were invading into her space, forcefully reaching into parts of her that she kept locked away. She suddenly felt flustered, unnerved by this alien feeling of someone genuinely concerned for her.

Before she knew it, the walls she built around herself began to crumble, and words tumbled out her mouth before she could stop herself, "Although... um, I guess if I _were_ to… describe my past with Chara... we were orphan sisters and small-time partners-in-crime. When we turned 17, we slipped up and failed a heist. The cops put a bounty on our heads, so we skipped town and went our separate ways. Last I heard from her, she was enrolled by an army in a foreign country somewhere. Now she's… _this_ …"

Sans sympathised as he passed her a cigarette, and his eyes softened as she reluctantly took it. Her expression appeared in pain before her mouth wrapped around the filter, as if the fear of appearing defenseless had hurt her. Sans flicked at his lighter, brought the flame to her, and commented as she inhaled,

"I can't imagine how you must be feeling. I don't know what I'd do if I ever found out my brother was a drug lord, as well as a don of his own mafia branch."

Frisk took a long and hard drag. Her distant eyes remained on the sea across the horizon. Sans desperately wanted to know what she was thinking, her silence was too eerie. Slowly, as she filled up her lungs with smoke, her voice was barely audible as she replied,

"…is that what she is?"

Sans shrugged nonchalantly.

"Give or take. Trust me, she's no Pablo Escobar. But she's got enough successful investments and finances to be considered one of the most powerful women in the country. She's got connections all over, and it's expanding. The woman really knows how to manipulate the network."

That's when Frisk's eyes grew. Her mouth had parted somewhat. The heavy reality of her sister's rise to supremacy weighed down hard on her shoulders. It was beginning to sound completely out of the realm of reality, and Frisk shook her head in total disbelief.

"I think I need time to dwell on this." She thought aloud, her mind beginning to spin, "I feel like… I've accidentally fallen into the position of an accomplice. I don't know if I can really go through with this... I don't know if I want to build my life on top of all this criminal activity at my feet. I've only just left that part of my past behind me. It's… it's too much."

"Well, now I can see why you think you're not cut out for this business. And honestly, I believe this too." Sans leant back against his chair, his eyes growing softer as he began to realise this all the more, "You seem like a good kid. Now I feel guilty for introducing you to the boss. If I had considered your connection with Chara more seriously, I wouldn't have…"

"It's alright. I think this was fated to happen sooner or later. After all, do you think this is the first time we've been separated from each other?"

Sans' eyes grew wide in shock. For the moment, they were interrupted when the waitress returned with their food. Sans had barely touched or even acknowledged his pancakes and coffee, as he kept his intrigued gaze on her. Whilst Frisk had eagerly tucked into her order, she spoke of her past with a face full of food,

"When my sister and I were young, we were split apart quite often. We were passed around like high quality products, god knows why. I won't go into detail on the things we were paid to do, because personally I'd prefer to keep that part of my life in the past where it belongs, but we must've been good at what we did because demand was high by international clients. That's why most of my childhood memories are of the sea, because the human trafficking routes we'd have to take were on off-license boats. We crossed paths a lot on the seas. No matter where we ended up, we somehow managed to meet somewhere in the middle. So in a way, I always knew I'd see her again. No matter how big the world is, we'd be able to find each other again eventually. But… something is different this time. I've never seen her change so much… we must've been separated for longer than I thought…"

Sans' grin softened.

"Seems like the universe really doesn't want to see you two apart. Heh. Makes me want to believe that all blood relatives have this spiritual connection that links us all together, no matter how far apart we are in the world. Almost poetic, huh..." Frisk caught on to the melancholy undertones of his statement. She was about to query him about it, until his smile widened and his eyes suddenly darted to a figure hurriedly walking down the street, "Hey, speak of the devil, looks like you'll be able to meet my brother today."

Frisk almost jumped in her seat. When she followed Sans' gaze out the window, her eyes rested curiously on a tall figure in the distance, striding in fast paces down the pavements. The man dived in and out of the streetlights. His appearance was only shown in short intervals whenever he stepped into the light, but Frisk could make out his long silhouette. He was dressed in a smart black suit over his white shirt. The top button of his collar was popped open with his prominent collarbone on show. His short hair was windswept to the side, and it was coloured platinum blonde to the point of appearing nearly snow-white. Frisk noted his thick brows furrowed over his eyes. He looked strictly business.

Frisk had to turn to his brother a few times to look for any sort of resemblance… but couldn't find a trace of it. "That's your brother?"

"Yup. Oh, and one more thing… it's pretty important so listen up. Not a word about our jobs in front of my brother, you understand? He's, uh… he's a field agent for the FBI." Frisk's eyes flew open. She almost choked on a piece of pancake caught in her throat. Then she was thrown off-guard when Sans' expression became serious, despite his maniacal smile, as his voice dripped with venom, "Word of advice, kid. I'm not the kind of person you would want to piss off. So if you ever tell my brother about me and my business with Chara, I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand. Capiche?"

Frisk coughed, choking on her pancake. Tears came to her eyes as Sans laughed and patted her back. She definitely noted to keep on the good side of him, as she suspected that this was only a fraction of what he was truly capable of. If he was able to send terrifying shivers down her spine by threats alone, she didn't dare to wonder what he was like if he was pushed any further…

His brother walked inside the diner in a cheery stride, and immediately went towards the counter to greet the waitress.

"Morning, Muffet. Y'know I heard the other day that compliments these days are a dime a dozen, so if I tell you that you're looking more beautiful than this morning's sunrise, will that cover the costs for a full English breakfast?"

Muffet almost dropped her tray of glasses as she stifled a fit of laughter.

"Flatter me all you like, dear, but all you'll get out of me is a smile. I can't pay my rent with compliments." Muffet leant over the counter with a smirk and cocked an eyebrow, "Have you been hanging out with Sans recently? You're starting to pick up his habit for bad jokes."

"I must have been, because I swear that line sounded a lot funnier in my head. Sans must be warping my sense of humour." He hung his head in defeat as if he had only just realised exactly what he said, and sighed with regret, "Muffet, I'll leave you a big tip if you completely forget what I said just now."

"Sorry, Papyrus, I don't accept bribes from police officers. Besides, you have an audience waiting for you over there…"

As she pointed to the booth where Sans and Frisk were situated, Sans peered back with a very large and knowing smile plastered on his face. Frisk pressed her mouth into a tight line as she sunk lower in her chair. They had heard everything he said. Papyrus knew right then and there that Sans would not let him forget this for as long as he lived. With another hefty sigh, Papyrus puffed out his chest with determination to face the music. As he approached them, Papyrus immediately ignored his brother's presence and went straight for Frisk. As Papyrus peered overhead with desperate eyes, she panicked and sank lower in her seat.

Papyrus pleaded, "Please don't believe anything my brother has told you about me. Whatever he's said is a blatant assassination of my character, and I won't stand for it."

Sans rested his head into his hands as he snorted, "Well Pap, that's a shame… because I was just telling her about how much of a stand-up guy you really are."

"Ah. Well then, you can believe that part." Papyrus finally grinned, and held out his hand with a friendly smile stretched over his attractive features, "Now that I've recovered my chance to make a good first impression, it's nice to meet you. My name's Papyrus, the infamous skeleton's brother."

At first, Frisk was completely thrown by the crystal clear irises in his eyes. Finally, she was able to find the resemblance between the two brothers. Despite the tiny speckles of orange tints in his irises, they were almost identical to Sans' in every way. She noted the way Papyrus carried an air of naïvety as he took a tight hold of Frisk's hand and shook it firmly in an overly friendly manner. Unlike Sans, he was naturally bubbly and energetic. His strong jawline was similar to Sans', and although it accentuated the long shape of his face, he still appeared to be much younger than his brother. And there wasn't a single hint of dark shadows beneath his sparkling eyes, which was the most prominent feature that made Sans appear more mature.

Suddenly, Frisk quickly snapped out of her study of his face as she nervously introduced herself,

"Yeah… um, my name's Frisk. Nice to meet you too, uh, Papyrus…"

"Frisk here is helping me out with the car auction today." Sans suddenly interrupted with a nonchalant smile and a quick wink. As Frisk turned to him in confusion, he continued to press forward with the bluff, "Ain't that right, Frisk? You remember what I told you earlier, right?"

Frisk swallowed a hard gulp. She remembered what he said alright. She couldn't ever forget how awful that shiver felt when she received that passing threat by him. Papyrus turned to Frisk, awaiting a response, but she was nearly frozen in terror. An intimidating glaze hid behind Sans' harmless grin. Fearing for her life, Frisk was left with no choice but to nod in compliance.

"Yeah… the car auction…" She didn't even know where to begin with this blatant lie.

"Frisk is new to the gearhead community, so I'm showing her the ropes. Hey Pap, why don't you tell her about that red mustang we're saving up for?"

"Oh, sure!" Papyrus excitedly slid beside Sans, and his eyes practically shone with bright enthusiasm the more he spoke, "Well, if you know Sans, you should know we're really into this community. We grew up in a junkyard filled to the brim with abandoned cars and bikes, y'see, so we practically spent our entire childhood picking them apart and putting them back together in working order. So if you ever need help with fixing up your set of wheels, we're the guys you have to come to. We can fix an engine, change the oil, whatever you need. I swear it's true, we're just that amazing."

"Wow, Papyrus. Those skills must be pretty handy to have if you're ever in a tight spot… like, say for example, if you're involved in some sort of _business_ …" Frisk teased, about to pass Sans a knowing smirk, but she stopped once she could feel the burning heat irradiate from Sans' glare. Immediately, she pressed her lips tightly together. _For someone with an alleged sense of humour, this guy can't take a joke._

"Well, what we're actually planning to do is collect all the necessary car parts from shows and auctions for totally cheap prices. That way, we can customise our own type of mustang and we won't have to save up ridiculous amounts of money to pay for the actual model. Smart, right?" Papyrus beamed with pride before he gave Sans a quick nudge, "Although I have to give my brother some credit, he's the one who came up with the idea for it."

Frisk's eyebrows rose then. She could have sworn, for a fraction of a moment, that Sans' intimidating face had coloured into a light blush. He quickly adjusted the collar of his jacket to hide his flustered expression, but even so, Frisk never expected such a frightening and macho guy like Sans to have a bashful side to him. She smirked, amused and interested by him all the more.

Suddenly, a loud noise ripped through the tension and sounded from beneath the table-top. Frisk nearly shouted in fright as Papyrus pulled out his beeping pager. It was Sans' turn to smirk then as Frisk clasped her hand over her racing heartbeat, almost as if he had planned this as revenge. Then Papyrus sighed in exasperation as he ran his hand through his windswept hair, and tried to hide his troubled expression as he reluctantly lifted out of his seat,

"I sincerely apologise for cutting this short, but my boss has called me on duty. Undyne has been working me into the ground since we've taken up this on-going drug ring case. I don't know why, it's just been collecting dust in the archives for so long now. The feds have been working on it for years, but before they're able to make any major breakthroughs, somehow all of their leads end up falling short. It's crazy stuff! It's as if someone out there is tying up loose ends before we can catch them in the act!"

As Papyrus shook his head dejectedly, Frisk exchanged a worried look with Sans as they knew exactly who was behind it all. But they remain faithful to their boss and stay silent.

"Anyway, I think Undyne and I are finally getting somewhere. She believes these last few drug dealer arrests are some primary clues towards unearthing this big-time organisation with direct ties to some illegal protection service, most likely the mafia. But with no solid evidence, we're only just scratching the surface. There's an entire network that I'm honestly struggling to wrap my head around, it's really starting to get to me…"

Before Papyrus became any more flustered, Sans gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder, and a bright smile as he cheered him on.

"You can do it, Pap. You're a tough guy, way tougher than this old bag of bones, so don't let it get you down. Have faith in yourself. Alright? I know you've got it in you."

Frisk was touched by this display of brotherly love, and smiled with a sigh. But this had only made her all the more shocked and confused. _Why is Sans working for Chara when he knows that Papyrus is investigating her? Isn't he afraid that Papyrus will find out about his involvement?_

It took Frisk a few more silent moments before she came up with a theory, but she kept her mouth shut as she watched the men briefly embrace in an affectionately masculine way. They were two tough men, but their love for each other was plain to see by any bystander. And as he turned back to Frisk, Papyrus grinned from ear to ear,

"It was nice to meet you, Miss Frisk. I'm sure that my brother'll treat you well. He looks scary, but don't let that fool you. He's actually a huge teddy bear once you get to know him a little better. Take my word for it. I'm a cop, after all."

He held out his hand again, and Frisk laughed as she took it more eagerly this time. Then she returned the gesture with her own attractive half-smile.

"See you later, Pap." Sans called after him as he watched his brother hurriedly exit the diner. Frisk amusedly noted how Sans had suddenly shifted in his seat to peer out the window. He was definitely the over-protective brotherly type, Frisk knew this now, especially when he had kept his eyes firmly attached to his brother before he was completely out of sight. Immediately after Sans returned his attention back to Frisk, her perceptive eyes sparkled as she beamed her trademark cunning smirk.

"You're an undercover agent, aren't you?"

Sans chuckled under his breath, "That's a sound theory, kid, but you've got the wrong idea. I got kicked off the force a long time ago… for reasons I don't care to disclose. So I don't work for anybody except myself. You'd better remember that about me from now on."

"But I don't understand. You are working for Chara… aren't you?" Frisk was only met with silence as Sans nonchalantly swigged his coffee. "Alright then. If you won't tell me that much, then answer me this – why don't you ask Chara for help with the mustang? If she can find me a sedan in a matter of hours, I'm sure it'll be no problem at all in finding something for you and Papyrus…"

"I am not accepting any favours from that woman. Or anything, for that matter." Sans sharply told her flat out, "I will not accept help from Chara under any circumstances. There's too much of a risk factor."

"What do you mean? I thought you were close…"

"We're only close because we're allowing ourselves to be." Sans stated simply, with a hardened glaze in his eyes that made his presence seem all the more dangerous. But his voice suddenly softened, almost as if he appeared vulnerable as his fingers edged over his coffee cup, "You better wise up quickly, kid. You should know it's not that easy to make friends in the underworld. Chara and I are business partners, and that's all there is to it. When it all comes down to it, Chara considers me to be a liability. She knows about my past, she's aware of my strengths, and most of all, she knows my weaknesses. You can guess what my biggest weakness is already, am I right? That's why I can't afford not to keep Chara close. Because if Papyrus ever catches on to Chara… and if Chara finds out that he's on to her… then…"

Frisk immediately felt her breath hitch in her throat, and gasped as she finally realised…

… _Chara won't hesitate to kill Papyrus._

She was speechless. Frisk had no idea there was so much at stake, and finally realised how dangerous Sans' position was. Although she had been exposed to the darkest parts of life for as long as she could remember, it never got easier when she was faced in situations like these. It tore her up inside as she had only began to befriend this man, only to learn that he's walking down a dead man's path.

Suddenly, his 'skeleton' nickname was beginning to make sense. As Frisk glanced at the worn-down expression of the man she was facing, she took a moment to see how the shadows would shape the darkness under his clear blue eyes. They looked so hollow, almost lifeless, as if he was on the edge of completely giving up. Sans idly ran his hand over the shape of his head. His bony fingers grazed over the short strands of hair closely cut to the grain, to the point where his near baldness further exaggerated the shape of his skull. Despite his large muscular build, he was a skeleton of a man through and through. Frisk quickly finished up her coffee to swallow her growing nerves.

Sans digressed, "Anyway, you really do seem like a good kid. I'm not going to tell you what you should or shouldn't do, because it's your life. I only wish that your circumstances were different. I know I'll always regret taking you backstage." He told her honestly as he pushed the coffee cup away, and squared his hollow gaze back to her, "I won't blame you for sticking around. You gotta do what you have to in order to survive in this business. Just like I have to do whatever it takes to protect my brother. Even if it means working for the one woman who would put a bullet in my head if I ever gave her the chance. You know the saying – keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You'd better keep that in mind as well, kid. As long as you're working for that woman, you can't trust anyone. Not even me."

Frisk wasn't exactly sure what to say, but she knew he was right. She knew that nothing had really changed. She's in a dangerous situation just as much as she was when she lived on the streets. If she had any chance of surviving, she had to be smart about this. And she started by following his advice – _keep my enemies close…_

Frisk was snapped out of her thoughts as Sans rifled through his wallet and placed a few crumbled notes beneath his coffee mug. Then, as he calmly rose from his seat, and as he glanced back at Frisk, she knew this was the only time Sans had shot her a genuine smile.

"Let's go get you settled into your apartment now, alright? The sooner you get all the tedious paperwork out of the way, the sooner you can sleep in your own bed. You look like you're about to drop dead."

Frisk swiftly rose from her seat, shot him back with an alluring half-smirk of her own that stopped him in his tracks, and replied just as cheerfully,

"Hey, if I play my cards right, then hopefully I won't."

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Two End. Chapter Three coming soon…_

* * *

 **Hi, thank you for reading! And thank you so much for all your kind reviews! You guys seriously give me the motivation to keep going with my fics!  
**

 **I had intended on making the chapters shorter, but I'm having such a blast writing this story! I can't stop! Please let me know if you're enjoying it too! A review is always appreciated! And if anyone has any requests to see any specific UT characters, please let me know who you'd like to see! Cheers again, and see you soon~!**


	3. Crime Scene Intervene

Chapter Three:: _Crime Scene Intervene_

…

Papyrus paced through the streets of the city until the morning sunrise spilt over the skyline. He felt claustrophobic. The entire area was barely lit up by the street lamps. Whilst the sodden sidewalks reflected the scattered neon lights, dark silhouettes of passing pedestrians made them appear like shadowy ghosts. It wasn't long until Papyrus began to believe the street may have been haunted.

Caught up in this delusion, Papyrus almost jumped out of his skin when a pair of glaring beam lights flashed and blinded him out of nowhere.

He shouted, "Hey, what're you…"

"Good morning, sunshine! Ooh man, you're looking a bit pale there. You seen a ghost or something?"

Papyrus sighed in relief. His racing heartbeat calmed once his eyes met up with his friend and supervisor, Undyne.

Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and the unkempt curls fell messily over her broad shoulders. Beneath her side fringe, her hair cast a shadow over the black eye-patch covering her scarred left eye, whilst her right eye encompassed a piercing golden orb beneath her garish crimson eyeshadow. Even with half her eyesight, Undyne had an effective way of intimidating people with her gaze. Whether she was grinning or scowling, her cherry painted lips could never escape the sizeable comparison to the likes of Steven Tyler's infamous mouth. This was once mentioned by one of her colleagues. Since then, Undyne has put a permanent ban on songs by Aerosmith down at the station.

She was dressed in a similar raven-coloured suit to Papyrus, with a loose jet-black tie wrapped underneath her collar. The sleeves of her tight fitted jacket had been pushed past her elbows to reveal her muscular forearms. Sans had often joked that all the pair needed were fedoras and sunglasses and they'd look exactly like the Blues Brothers. As a result, Undyne had banned Sans from the station as well.

Papyrus ran around the side of the car, jumped into the passenger side and threw an exhausted hand through his windswept hair.

"Sorry I'm late, boss. I didn't keep you waiting, did I?"

"Nah, I was late too. I had a little chat with the missus this morning." Her hands loosely held on to the steering wheel, "Alphys didn't get back home from work until really late again last night – she looked absolutely exhausted when I saw her this morning. I'm actually starting to get worried. I can tell she's not enjoying her work, and I keep telling her that she should quit her job because it's really taking a toll on her. But she's so tight-lipped about the work that she does. I mean, I understand that you're contracted not to talk about your clients when you're working as a PR consultant, but… it's like she won't even tell me the basics. I don't know, I just wish she'd open up to me a little more. She's becoming so withdrawn…"

Suddenly, Undyne snapped out of her thoughts. She dismissively waved her hands as she began to visibly sweat.

"Ah, you don't wanna listen to my problems already... it's too early in the morning to get so emotional. Buckle up, rookie! It's time to patrol."

Before Papyrus had any chance to reach for the seatbelt, Undyne flicked the engine on, slammed the brake down, and stamped against the accelerator. Papyrus nearly shouted as loud as the screech of the tyres as they spun and struggled against the wet surface of the road. Somehow, she managed to steer the car like a rocket as they shot out of the narrow street and sped along the dual carriageway with a manic grin, fuelled with adrenaline. Papyrus grabbed a hold of his seat in fear for his life. In instances like these, Papyrus had to wonder if Undyne's thirst for adrenaline made her a danger to work with, or if she made his job just that much more exciting.

However, before she could speed any further down the city streets, she suddenly had to slam against the brakes as a car in front had slowed down much too quickly. Undyne and Papyrus were almost thrown forward from their seats as they screeched to a halt. Papyrus sighed in relief as she finally snapped out of her adrenaline-fuelled frenzy. But still, she practically punched the horn whilst she yelled profanities out of the window. Undyne was a godsend when it came to high-speed car chases, but unfortunately, she had the intense road rage of a New York City cab driver.

As Papyrus gave out a small exasperated sigh, Undyne put aside her rage to attempt conversation,

"So how've you been, rookie? You had breakfast at Muffet's place with your brother again?"

Papyrus nodded, "Well, I didn't have time to grab any breakfast, but I managed to catch a brief conversation with my brother at least. Sans really surprised me today, actually. It looked to me like he was on a breakfast date with a pretty girl I've never seen before. Too bad you called me on duty this morning, because if I didn't have a job to go to then I'd still be there sabotaging it."

"Is that right? If that's the case, then you have my permission to be excused for the day. Go back there and ruin that date, rookie!" Undyne laughed loudly as she gave him a hearty pat on the back, but she nearly winded him as she underestimated her heavy-handed strength and practically slapped the breath out of him. Then, once her laughter calmed down, her gaze grew distant, "Yeah, to be honest that is kinda surprising. I mean… the guy was such a loner! Back when I knew Sans on the team, he was totally committed to his job. It wouldn't have been like him to put aside his job to see anyone on the side. Man, he must've changed a lot since he left the force…"

Papyrus settled into his seat as his wandering gaze watched the faint drizzling rain fall down the window panes in slow trails. He could barely mask his melancholy.

"Sans has changed a lot. I don't think even he's realised how much he's changed. Before the incident happened, he was… well, basically he was my hero… but don't ever tell him I said this! I won't ever hear the end of it if he knew. But it's true – Sans is the main reason why I wanted to be an FBI agent in the first place. He had so much respect from everyone we knew, and he had so much passion for the job… he seemed totally unstoppable. But after everything that's happened… when he decided to leave the force for good, he's just never been the same..."

Papyrus shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as this was the first time he spoke about this with Undyne. Although she kept her gaze on the road, she made sure to let him know that she was intently listening. He cleared his throat for a moment before he could let any more emotions flow.

He sighed, "It does get a little heart-breaking sometimes, especially after everything we've been through since then. But thankfully after he quit hitting the bottle so much, he's finally managing to move past it. He's actually spending a lot of his time fixing cars and setting up his own dealership, so I think he's finally coming to terms with everything that's happened. Thank goodness…"

Undyne's driving suddenly appeared to be careful and slow, emphasizing her empathy. Then, as she kept her softened gaze on the darkened road ahead, piercing through the faint drizzle against the windshield, Undyne assured him as gently as she could,

"He was a credit to the force, Papyrus. We won't ever let his decision to leave us define him after all the good work he's done in the past. It would be unfair to condemn the man for what happened. And… if I can be brutally honest here… I can definitely understand why he left. I probably would have done the same if I was in his position."

Papyrus pressed his lips into a tight thin line as he hung his head in despair.

"I would have left too… if I found out everything that happened to Gaster the way he did."

The heavy silence that followed thickened the tension, and they spoke no more about it as they slowly sped onwards through the desolated city streets.

…

…

As the afternoon beckoned ever closer, Papyrus suggested that the pair take a break and head to Muffet's place for lunch. But Undyne was unsatisfied with the quiet morning they had. She was determined to unearth any criminal activity taking place in her sleeping city. She firmly believed that crime doesn't stop for a single second, and she wanted to be right up in the action as it goes down.

Without any word of warning, Papyrus slammed against the side of the car when Undyne made a sudden turn down a narrow alleyway. Again, he clutched a tight hold of his seat as he cautiously watched out for Undyne's unpredictable actions. She was definitely the most unorthodox partner he'd ever worked with, but since she was the Special Agent-In-Charge, Undyne proved she was very good at what she does. Just by knowing how hard she's worked to become top of the FBI ranks, Papyrus trusted her word out of anyone else he's ever worked with so far.

The car rolled into an incredibly slow pace as she weaved the vehicle around the back of a tall block of apartments, and steadily parked into a space in front of a line of garages. The entire area was isolated, meant solely for the apartment owners to park their cars, and Undyne had deliberately parked into one of them without any hesitation.

"What are you doing, Undyne? You can't stop here! This is someone's parking space…"

"We won't take long." She waved to him dismissively before passing him a sly look, "Besides, take a look around. Tell me what you see here."

Papyrus blinked in confusion for a moment, then collected his thoughts before doing exactly what he was told.

"Um, well… I can see a huge apartment building with totally unsafe fire escapes… I can see garages on either side of us… and empty parking spaces… oh, all except that one car parked over there…"

Suddenly, Undyne leant over her chair to grab Papyrus' collar, and forcedly dragged him closer to the window on her side. From the corner of his eyes, widened in surprise, he could see Undyne's excited grin growing from ear to ear.

"I'm surprised you don't recognise this address from the dealer arrest we made last week, rookie. One of his well-known drop-off points is in this very parking lot!" Undyne's devious smile widened as she saw the light quickly spark in Papyrus' eyes. He was beginning to understand, and Undyne beamed with pride, "I have good reason to believe that this is _exactly_ where that dealer's supplier conducts his business. I mean, take a good look at this place! It's quiet and well-hidden, anyone can come and go without alerting the public, it's the perfect scene! With this in mind, wouldn't you also agree that this is the ideal location to make illegal trades like, say… drug transactions?"

Papyrus' mouth quickly dropped open into an oval.

"Yeah… yeah, I can totally see it now!" He nodded as his wide smile finally matched up with Undyne's. They passed each other a look that they often shared as their heartbeats raced faster and faster from the thrill of the case. Papyrus asked, "So… what do you propose we do now?"

"We start with that car over there."

Undyne turned to square her vigilant gaze out the window towards the sole car parked up at the far end of the lot, and pointed to the driver leaning lethargically against the hood. As the man sparked up a cigarette, he kept his hand cupped over his lighter as he battled to light it up against the wind. Once he inhaled, he brought his hand down to reveal his boyish features to the two agents… but they had no clue that this man, dressed in his faded plaid shirt and torn baggy jeans, was the long-haired ill-tempered boyfriend of Chara – Asriel.

His emerald eyes flickered every now and again to Undyne and Papyrus' car, as he was extremely aware of their presence the moment they rolled in. He wrapped his hands over the hood of his car, and the ring on his finger nervously tapped against it like a metallic sounding metronome. His worried eyebrows creased his forehead, but he remained cool and collected as his eyes travelled to the clear blue sky. The wind picked up, curtaining strands of dirty-blonde hair over his face. He took these moments to subtly peer over to the entrance of the lot where Undyne and Papyrus had parked. Although their windows were tinted, he saw movement beneath it.

Undyne adjusted the holster under her jacket and managed to hide away her weapons.

"I'm going out there to talk to this guy. You stay here and keep watch, alright? I have a feeling he might not be as eager to speak to me, because by now I'm sure he's realised he's made one vital mistake – there's only one viable escape route, and that's through the entrance we came in. He's got nowhere to run." Undyne's eyes flared with dangerous excitement. As she hooked her fingers through the door handle, she firmly held her hand over Papyrus' shoulder and smiled, "I hope you're ready for action! Welcome to the field, rookie!"

Papyrus hoped he wasn't spotted by Asriel once she quickly opened the car door and confidently stepped out. He kept himself hidden with his trembling fingers itching towards the gun in his holster. Slowly, he swallowed his racing heart down his throat as he watched Undyne cross the lot with Asriel's burning gaze watching her every move. She nonchalantly approached him without faltering once, and called to Asriel once she was close enough to be heard,

"Hey man, you got a cig you can spare?"

Asriel followed the direction of her gaze towards the cigarette hung in his mouth, and slowly reached into his pocket. As Papyrus couldn't hear a word of this from the car, he suddenly grabbed a tight hold of his gun beneath his jacket and shook in fear… until he could finally make out the box of cigarettes that Asriel had pulled out from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, the box lid flipped open, and passed one cigarette to Undyne without speaking a word to her.

Papyrus heavily sighed in relief as he released his gun. He didn't like holding one, he didn't even like owning one, but he accepted that it was a vital necessity of his job. Still, he hoped that he could go for as long as possible in his career without having to fire one.

"Thanks." Undyne said with a less-than-innocent smile, and popped it into her mouth.

"You need that lighting up?"

"Got that covered." She pulled out a cheap-looking aqua lighter and flicked the zip, inhaling the filter as the smoke filled up her lungs. She sighed deeply as she slowly blew it towards the direction of the wind. Her eye flickered as she felt her mind spin a little. "It's been way too long since I've had one of these. It's not like I was addicted or anything. I gave up when I met my girlfriend. She hated the smell on my breath, especially when we… uh…"

Asriel's eyebrows quickly rose with amusement as Undyne realised she may have said too much. She cleared her throat as she restarted her train of thought.

"Anyway, I gave up smoking a long time ago. But it's not the habit that I miss the most, no. It's the relaxing state of mind you slip into after you finish one. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah…" Asriel replied cautiously, taking a long and slow drag of his own.

Undyne leant her entire body weight on one foot as she buried her left hand into her jacket pocket, and flicked away the ash from her cigarette with her right. Meanwhile, Asriel felt himself slightly perspiring. They didn't once take their eyes off each other the entire time. As Undyne pushed back the messy red strands that had escaped her ponytail, Asriel couldn't mistake the slyness in her growing smile as she approached him, until they were only a few feet away.

"Yeah. It's that relaxed feeling I miss the most. And since I don't want to go behind my partner's back and slip into that bad habit again, I've been looking for, uh, _other_ means of relaxing… if you get what I'm saying…"

Asriel blinked hard as his cigarette rested between his dry lips. Ash fell away as if he'd forgotten it was still there, and his wild mane flew by in the space between them. He ran his fingers over the rough surface of his stubble, stretching out the tension for longer than necessary. Then, without an ounce of emotion in his voice, he said straight out,

"Are you asking me to score you some blow?"

"Depends if you got any on you…"

The burning fire on the end of Asriel's cigarette came to life as he slowly inhaled, and watched the flicker of the embers reflect in her widened golden eye. As she lightly licked the edges of her mouth with the tip of her tongue, Asriel could see just how much she anticipated his answer. So, he picked the cigarette out of his mouth, stepped forward to face her head on, and squinted his eyes as he warned her,

"Word of advice, officer – if you want to shake someone down, don't roll up in an unmarked car with heavy tinted windows. I can even see the security bars in the back seat from here. If you're gonna ask someone for drugs, you might want to leave your police cruiser back at the station."

Undyne's face burnt up. She silently seethed at his arrogance, and took a moment to mentally calm down. Although her grin had shaken a little, she remained focused, and smirked,

"So you found me out, huh? You're good. I'm impressed you managed to recognise all the signs of an undercover cop car so quickly. It makes me wonder just how familiar you are with this sort of thing." Undyne regained her composure once again as she tilted her head to the side, smiling widely, "Besides… you didn't answer the question. You got any blow?"

Asriel begrudgingly flicked his cigarette away and pushed himself from the hood of his car. Undyne refused to back away from him as he came close to face her, and she remained confident and motionless as a statue even as the wind brushed his dirty-blonde hair light past the side of her face. His intense glare was as hard as stone as he replied with hostility,

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you that I got nothing on me, would you? Nah, you got me profiled the moment you drove up here. It's alright, though. I know my rights. I have the authority to refuse a search if I want to. But if it'll clear my suspicion, I'll let you go ahead and frisk me. I got nothing to hide."

Asriel spaced his feet apart and spread his arms out wide with a cocked eyebrow, challenging her to go ahead. Again, Undyne had to take a few moments to mentally clear her mind before she could let her anger override her. With his permission, Undyne hurriedly began her search. She patted her hands over his arms, his torso, his legs and his ankles, but she felt nothing out of the ordinary. There was definitely nothing on his person that would incriminate him. Once she finished, Asriel stepped aside and held out his hand, allowing her to search his car as well.

Undyne had to bite her tongue then. The way Asriel had bowed as she stepped past him was much too arrogant. In instances like these, Undyne almost wished that he did have something on him, just so she'd have all the more reason to put a stop to his cocky attitude. But his car came up clean. And Undyne scowled in a sulk.

Asriel held a cigarette out for her and asked with an attractive smirk, "You want another one for your drive out of here? Don't worry, it's not laced with anything." When she refused to move with an unamused frown, Asriel spun the tube between his fingers as he laughed to himself, "Ah, I guess that'd be a bad idea. Remember what you said earlier? Wouldn't want your girlfriend smelling the tobacco on your breath when you-"

"You'd better stop right there, smartass." Undyne seethed as she slammed his car door shut, her fiery glare burnt with growing rage, "Do you really want to antagonise a police officer? Because we have plenty of cigarettes back at the station if that's what you want…"

Asriel withdrew himself as he leant back against the hood of his car. His smirk finally fell away. With her curiosity satiated, Undyne angrily threw her finished cigarette away, passed him one final intimidating glare, and turned on her heels towards Papyrus waiting anxiously from her car. She left Asriel with monotonous parting words,

"Thank you for your co-operation. I hope we don't have to meet again."

"Feeling's mutual, officer." Asriel called after her, and intensely watched her through the long strands of his hair blowing in the wind. She strode across the lot without once looking back.

Undyne almost threw the car door open as she collapsed into the driver's seat, and slammed it shut begrudgingly with a strong sigh. Papyrus waited patiently on the side-lines for any news on the situation, but she sat in silence for a moment as her hands gripped against the steering wheel. From the way her knuckles whitened, Papyrus figured that it hadn't gone as well as she had hoped. Not wanting to press her on the matter, he grabbed for the seatbelt and silently buckled himself in.

Undyne took a long and deep breath, and eventually turned the key in the ignition. Then, she slowly backed out of the space and crawled along the road towards the entrance. Without looking back, Undyne drove them through the alley, and eventually glanced to Papyrus as her voice sounded strained,

"…let's go to Muffet's for some lunch, okay?"

Papyrus didn't need any convincing as his bright smile stretched as wide as it could. He had the kind of childlike optimism that almost seemed contagious, and it was enough to calm down Undyne in seconds. At that moment, even though he was new to the field, and even though he was a little goofy and naïve, Undyne was glad that she had Papyrus as her partner.

Meanwhile, Asriel waited a few minutes longer until he was absolutely sure that he was completely alone. When it seemed like no one else was going to drive into the parking lot, he hurriedly walked to his car and jumped inside. Quickly, he opened the glovebox and fished around the contents, until he grabbed his outdated phone situated at the very back. It was an old model, specifically chosen for work purposes to easily dispose, and it had outdated features that modern day technology were too advanced to track. There were only a few numbers saved on it, and one number was saved above all others. Asriel wasted no time in calling it.

Asriel's eyes darted around the area once more to look for any signs of life. When he concluded that he was completely alone, his heart almost jumped to the back of his throat as the dial tone suddenly halted. There was an unbearable silence from the other side of the call, before Asriel suddenly recognised the breathy voice sound out an answer,

"…yeah?"

Asriel's mouth ran dry. _Chara._

"Hey, it's me." His croaky voice was riddled with nerves, but he still managed to sound affectionate as he was glad to simply hear her voice. Despite his feelings getting the best of him, Asriel attempted to sound as professional as possible, "I, uh… I ran into some trouble at our pick-up point behind the apartment complex. I just got spotted and searched by a fed, so I'm gonna have to lay low for a while. Sorry about this, but… someone else will have to cover for me tonight."

The line was deathly silent for a moment, and Asriel was on the edge of his seat as he waited for some kind of response from her. Again, he was unsure on what kind of reaction he'd get from her this time. It was terrifying to find out. He sincerely hated to let her down, as he desperately pined for approval from her. He felt his heart racing to speeds he never thought possible. Just as he thought he was about to lose his mind in the suspense, Asriel heard a small intake of breath sound from the other side,

"…understood." Chara said simply. Asriel breathed in relief. He was incredibly grateful that she didn't seem angry with him, and he leant so far back in his seat that he could feel himself melting into the chair. But she wasn't finished with him then. "Oh… and Asriel?"

"Yeah?"

Chara's voice was cold and emotionless as she simply commented,

"You've disappointed me."

Chara hung up. And the dial tone sang in his ears.

As the line had been cut, Asriel let the phone slip through his fingers, stiff with shock. He felt numb, and the sound of the phone falling down the side of his chair echoed like a roll of thunder. His vacant gaze stared into the empty abyss as his head fell against the window. The cold sting of the panes bit at his skin.

But still, he felt nothing.

…

…

 _Knock. Knock._

Sans stood at the entrance of Frisk's apartment. The sun was falling over the horizon as the evening laid the eventful afternoon to rest. As he noticed the peephole blink with life, he pulled a face as soon as he heard her gasp on the other side. She scratched away the chain on the door and clicked it open to meet him in a creased shirt and pair of shorts. Her hair was even more unkempt and messy than before, and her heavy eyes suggested that she had only just woken up.

"Hey, kid. How's it feel to sleep in your own bed?"

"It was great until you forced me to get out of it." Frisk said without an ounce of humour. Sans couldn't stifle his wheezy laugh as he figured Frisk wouldn't be the type of person who would enjoy having their sleep disturbed. As she stepped aside to let him in, Sans shook his head to refuse her invitation.

"I'm actually here to pick you up. Chara called. We've got a job to do."

Frisk squinted her eyes in confusion. Through the misty haze of her drowsy state, it slowly dawned on her that Sans was completely serious. Frisk cocked her head to the side as she wondered aloud,

"I didn't think I'd be starting so soon…"

"Neither did we, but since Asriel can't make a pick-up job, we need someone to pick up the slack. So are you interested?"

Frisk leant against her door as she crossed her arms, "That depends… what do you need me to do?"

"Actually, we don't need you to do anything. We'll be doing something for you instead." Sans replied cheerfully. Frisk, confused and intrigued, watched as he nonchalantly adjusted his jacket over his shoulders, and continued with his usual grin, "Chara's been worried about your lack of protection, y'see, so she suggested that you get geared up as soon as possible. I'm more than happy to bring you along to meet a guy I know who's got all the equipment you'll need. Trust me, you'll feel a lot safer, and I'm sure Chara will be able to sleep better at night knowing you got some means of protection with you."

Frisk suddenly pushed herself from the doorframe as her eyes widened.

"Sans, what kind of protection are you talking about?"

He laughed under his breath. And as Sans hooked his fingers around the zip of his jacket, he swiftly pulled it to the side to reveal the gleam of his pistol hidden deep in the holster against his hip. His eerie smile turned all the more sinister as the evening shadows encased his expression, and his hollow gaze exposed the corrupted sheen in his eyes as he asked her,

"…you ever fired a gun before, kid?"

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Three End. Chapter Four coming soon…_

* * *

 **Hi, thanks for reading! First of all, thank you so much for your awesome reviews! Every time I see one pop up in my emails, I'm just so happy to receive one! I honestly feel so lucky every time someone reads and enjoys my work, so thank you!**

 **Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it! Cheers again for reading this and supporting me! See you all soon~!**


	4. Her Dog Day's Just Begun

Chapter Four :: _Her Dog Day's Just Begun_

…

Frisk stared out of the car window, absent-mindedly watching the street lights pass her by. She struggled to adjust to this new life. Before this, Frisk had spent her days fighting for survival on the streets. Now she's simply fighting for peace of mind in her own head.

 _I don't know which situation was worse._ These thoughts attacked her relentlessly.

Frisk fidgeted with her hands in her lap. She was a little scared, but despite it all, Frisk felt shudders of exhilaration as she glanced over to her driver. Sans was silent overall, but sometimes he'd sneak a glance back. He smirked when he caught her staring. Frisk turned her flustered gaze back to her window, and desperately ignored the fiery blush lighting up her face. Her social manners were a little unusual due to her barbaric up-bringing, and she was incredibly guarded as a result, but still… Sans never thought negatively of her. Instead, he found her to be... a little endearing.

They drove towards isolated warehouses cut off from the inner city. The walls were heavily painted over with graffiti and gang member tags, and the windows were cracked and barely sealed. Sans drove recklessly over the pot-holes, whilst Frisk squealed by the way the car had thrown her up and down from her seat. Sans laughed as he purposely swerved hard down the side of one particularly large warehouse, and Frisk seethed as she held on to the dashboard for dear life.

"Sans, holy shit! Can you _please_ drive like a normal person?! Otherwise it'll be entirely your fault if I end up throwing up my breakfast!"

"I'd be offended if you do, kid. Those pancakes weren't cheap." Sans laughed loudly, finally pulling into a narrow alley between two warehouses.

They were hidden beneath the rolling fog, thinly veiling their vision for a moment before Sans flicked on the beam-lights from his car. The moment he did, the ray of lights highlighted a lone fire-safety door with a lock broken off the latch. When Sans yanked up the handbrake and shuffled out of the car without a word, Frisk hurriedly unbuckled her belt and jogged to his side for safety.

The area looked as dodgy as it could possibly get. It was a completely abandoned district with no signs of life from anywhere. It was hard to see through the density of the mist. Anything could happen, and no one could bear witness to it. Frisk swallowed nervously as Sans approached the fire-safety door. When they were close enough, she noticed the handle was framed by bundles of bullet holes.

"...are you really telling me that _this_ is the place where we're meeting your guy?" Frisk asked, desperately swallowing her nerves as she did.

Sans pushed the heavy door open and confidently stepped inside with a laidback smile. He kept eerily silent as he lead her to the centre of the ridiculously spacious warehouse. The cracked windows let in the glowering moonlight, and their footsteps were amplified by the echoes ricocheting against the walls, decorated with graffiti.

As Sans lingered in the centre of it all, he pulled out his cigarette box and slipped one out between his lips. Without a word, he reached into his pocket to grab his skull-decorated lighter and set the end alight. Frisk crossed her arms, but as she was met with even more agonising silence, Frisk finally threw her hands into the air.

"Mind giving me some kind of explanation here? What the hell are we doing here, Sans? Don't you think it's a little cruel to keep me in the dark like this?"

She watched in disbelief as Sans barely batted an eye, and nonchalantly blew smoke towards the ceiling without glancing at her once. Frisk took a deep breath before she irritably urged him once more, "Just so you know, Sans – if you think being cryptic like this makes you look cool, it's not working on me. Frankly, it's annoying. If we're going to be partnered together, then I'd at least like to know what I'm getting into. So just cut the crap and tell me what it is we're doing here. Give me a little peace of mind, huh?"

"Don't you think I'm doing that by not telling you anything?" He replied dismissively, "You want peace of mind so badly? Stay ignorant. Look the other way. Follow orders and don't ask questions. Because the deeper you dig into this business, the harder it'll be for you to get out. Remember that."

Sans kept up his ever-present grin as he warned her, and the shadows deepened beneath his hollow gaze. The way he looked at her was haunting. He acted as if he'd seen things that no mortal being on the planet should ever see in their lifetime, and it shows on his withered features. Frisk adjusted the military cap over her hair as she nervously stroked the rim with her fingertips. When the cap cast a shadow over her eyes, she dragged her gaze from the soles of his feet up to the cigarette hung between his lips.

"…that doesn't mean it's too late for you either, Sans."

He sighed with exasperation.

"Kid…"

"I really believe that, y'know. You might think I'm naive or I don't know anything, but... you said you got kicked off the force, right? You were a good man once. I can tell. I've never seen an ex-agent quite like you before. You act like nothing fazes you. In the thick of danger... back when Chara killed that guy... you were calm and collected. Death no longer haunts you. How does an honest man fall so far into all this corruption?"

Frisk knew she was breaching beyond her boundaries, and she could plainly see the discomfort in his strained smile as he remained resistant. But her curiosity was agonising. His phony smiles, his carefree attitude – they were all part of an on-going façade. Frisk ached to know who he really was. She stepped forward with her hand over her heart, "Listen. Spare me the sympathy for one minute, alright? I don't need you to protect me. I've managed to live this long somehow, haven't I? I can take care of myself. So can you stop acting like I'm a vulnerable child and just… be straight with me?"

His silhouette was split in two – one half was absorbed in shadows whilst the other was drenched in the glowering moonlight. Frisk held her breath as his smile slowly fell away, and for a moment, he looked unusually human. The prominent creases around his hollow eyes darkened, and Frisk caught a glimpse of the deeply-seated melancholy in his vacant gaze. The way he silently looked at her was so chilling, as if he had completely abandoned his former self, and he was too afraid to confront it. As his mouth gradually parted, he managed to whisper a single word,

"… _Gaster_ …"

The name ricocheted against the walls.

Before Frisk could query him about it, a glaring crimson light suddenly seeped through the warehouse windows. Frisk jumped back in surprise as the metallic garage doors beside her gradually began to rise. The silhouette of an old beaten-up car slowly crawled backwards into the space and parked between Frisk and Sans. Once the garage door sunk back down to the floor, the metallic clash against the ground resembled the sound of cell doors locking together. Frisk hovered her hand next to her throat as she struggled to swallow her nerves – once again, she felt trapped.

Following the incredibly tense silence, Sans wandered to the trunk of the car as the man in the driver's seat finally shuffled out. The first thing Frisk noticed was his unkempt tangerine shirt. Half of the hem had fallen out and untucked out of his pants, with a pair of braces stretched over his shoulders. A cigarette hung between his thick lips, slightly hidden beneath the mess of his shaggy beard shaping his rounded jawline. His red hair was buried beneath a flat cap, casting a shadow over his widened eyes. Frisk immediately noted the prominent blood vessels overtaking the whites of his eyes. He looked as if he'd suffered endless sleepless nights.

Without wasting another second, the fatigued man turned to Sans with an impatient frown cemented on his colourless features,

"Hey skeleton. Is this the kid?"

"Yeah, that's her." His widened grin made a quick return. "You got the gear Chara ordered for her?"

"In the trunk."

Frisk nervously lingered on the side-lines as Sans flicked his fingers over the lock, and pushed up the trunk to peer inside. As he rummaged through the contents, Frisk side-stepped towards the jaded man leant against the side of his car, anxiously sucking on the filter of his cigarette. The ashes idly fell away as his restless leg bounced against the ground, and he warily peered over to Frisk as she was hesitant to approach him too closely. He looked so antsy and stressed-out. Frisk was afraid that he might bite if she made the wrong move too suddenly. Determined to make a good first impression, Frisk held out her hand, swallowed her nerves, and confidently greeted him,

"Nice to meet you, Mr…"

"Nicknames only, 'kay little buddy?" He grumbled through the grit of his teeth.

"Oh, uh… okay, but… I don't have one yet." Frisk withdrew her hand dejectedly, and her confidence wavered as he intensely studied her.

"New kid, eh? Don't worry, give it time. You'll get one."

He sharply sucked his cigarette once again as if he couldn't stand to let a single grain of tobacco go to waste. His fiery-coloured beard was highlighted by the radiance of the fire, and hints of crimson colours soaked his faded features from the rear-lights of the car. Although he appeared wearier than the skeleton man himself, his dull-coloured complexion didn't appear to be too matured. In fact, Frisk had to wonder if he was much older than herself.

She asked curiously, "What's your nickname?"

Immediately, his frown drooped. As he parted his lips to snarl, he reluctantly answered as if poison dripped from every word he spoke,

"…everybody calls me 'Burgerpants' now."

"You're kidding, right?" Frisk snorted in disbelief, but instantly regretted it as his scowl was wiped clean of any amusement. Immediately, she felt her face whiten, "Oh God, you're not kidding, are you?"

Burgerpants suddenly growled, "You wouldn't believe the shit I put myself through for this business! I put my ass on the line every single day to import these weapons all the way from Russia! I've got connections to arms dealers and manufacturers across the entire freakin' globe! But the moment I mention my old fast-food job, that's the name I get stuck with for life! It's a sick world we live in, little buddy."

Sans' wheezy laughter was quietly heard from a distance. Nothing about that was meant to be remotely funny. But Frisk's eyes widened as she silently gasped,

"You… import weapons?"

He nodded coolly, as if it was no big deal.

"It's a profitable trade, and it pays a hell of a lot more than my old burger-flipping job. Way I see it, the wealth's worth the risk." He picked the cigarette from his mouth, tapped his thumb to the direction of the trunk, and he jaggedly roamed towards it with Frisk in tow, "Take your pick. Or take them all. Whatever. Chara's already paid the full amount for the entire set, so it's no skin off my nose."

Frisk took one glance at the trunk, and it was all she needed before her mouth instantly dropped open in shock. Inside, there was an entire arsenal of guns, ammunition, military items, and an assortment of all kinds of weaponry fitted into the compacted space of the trunk.

Suddenly, everything finally felt real. Beads of cold sweat rolled down her temples as her breath had been drawn out her throat. There was enough equipment there to supply an army fleet. Her curious palms stroked over the icy steel of the guns, her fingers ran over the ammo stretched into bundles, but she daren't touch the duffle bag containing the full length of a missile launcher. The sheer size of the machine was intimidating enough, and her mind was spiralling at the possibility of ever having to use it.

Sans intently watched her, and laughed as he idly leant his arm against the lid of the trunk.

"Hey Burgerpants, we don't want to overwhelm the poor girl, do we? Don't worry about it, Frisk, I'll pack up the rest for delivery if you choose the one you wanna practise with right now." As he said this, Frisk immediately turned to him with an oval-shaped mouth. She blinked in shock and wondered if she heard him right. But he teased once more, "You ready for your first shooting lesson, kid?"

Frisk's head nodded involuntarily. Then her hands leant towards the semi-automatic pistol that had first caught her eye. Something about the aesthetic of that gun had drawn her to it, and she couldn't place the reason why. But as soon as she wrapped her trembling fingers around the handle, she was caught off-guard by its heaviness. She had to grip it tight with both hands at first as she underestimated the weight, and stumbled forward as it almost slipped through her palms. On instinct, Sans was quick on his feet as he suddenly clasped his hands over hers, catching the gun between them. But inadvertently, he also caught her slim torso into a tight embrace.

Frisk felt her whole face burn up like a furnace as the heat from his palms juxtaposed from the cold steel of the gun in her fingers. It took an entire minute for Sans to realise the compromising position he placed her in before he slowly released her, with a hint of embarrassment shimmering over his high cheekbones. He hoped Frisk hadn't noticed… but she did. She gripped the gun tightly. Her heartbeat quickened.

"Hey Bonnie and Clyde." Burgerpants chimed in, abruptly interrupting the two, "I've lined up a couple cans over there if you wanna use them as target practise."

"Alright, thanks." Sans nodded gratefully, and turned back to Frisk still with a slight tinge of scarlet speckled over her flustered expression. With a flick of his wrist, he beckoned her to the centre of the room, and Frisk sheepishly shuffled to his side with the gun held tight between her palms. With a calm smile, Sans asked cheerfully, "You ready for this?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess." Frisk replied over the fast pace of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Sans' movements were incredibly slow as he carefully reached down to hook his fingers over hers, and pushed her hands down to point the barrel towards the ground. Then, he separated her hands apart by placing the other on the edge of the magazine, and gripped her firmly to slide the cartridge back. Frisk swallowed hard. She felt the strong spring slip through her sweaty palms, and she jumped as it jolted back to its original position. Then, Frisk took a sharp intake of breath as Sans ran his hands over her limbs, unaware that it felt unintentionally and horrendously intimate. He wrapped his callous fingers around her forearms. Her body stiffened as he turned her sideways. Her waist lightly brushed against his as she lingered like a ragdoll in his grasp. His warm breath grazed over her ear as he spoke without an ounce of amusement in his low voice,

"When you pull back the chamber, always look inside to check if a magazine is loaded. It's important that you always remember this rule. Never overlook a loaded gun. Are we clear?"

"Yeah, clear…" Frisk confirmed with a shiver.

Once he removed her finger from the trigger, he gently pushed her forearms up and bent them slightly to a comfortable position. The barrel aimed at the first can on the left. Before Sans could align the notch of the gun to her eye, he heard a metallic rattling pierce through the air. It took a full minute to realise that the gun was shaking in her grip. Frisk was trembling with nerves. So, as slowly as he could move himself, Sans gently encased her hands into his.

"Relax, I got you."

Her grip loosened around the handle. His calm tone of voice eased her nerves. Once she stopped shaking, the gun fell deathly silent.

Then he continued, "Take a deep breath. Spread your feet apart and balance your stance. Calm down your body. Your aim will be so much better this way."

His voice faded into the background, and in the distance, the movement of Burgerpants inhaling his cigarette began to slow down to impossible speeds. Even the simplistic blink of his eye seemed to be caught in slow-motion. Seconds dragged on like minutes with Sans' comforting grip moving from her hands to cover her ears, gently removing the messy strands of her hair aside to stretch his accentuated fingers around her head. The anticipation of the shot was drawing to a close as Frisk carefully levelled the gun barrel to the direction of the target. The can was locked in sight. The gun was steady, and her breathing was stagnant. All she had to do then…

…was pull the trigger.

Her finger edged over the hook, and the moment she squeezed, the powerful force of the bullet leaving the barrel shuddered like lightening throughout her torso. Frisk resisted the urge to scream as she felt the gun recoil in her grip, throwing her back and forth in the space of a second with a chill. But still, she was grateful that the sound of the gunshot was dulled by Sans' heavy palms clasped over her ears. However, the target remained untouched as the can sat mockingly in an eerie stillness. And her attention turned to the steam from a newly formed bullet hole etched into the wall.

"Dammit. I missed."

Sans laughed as he assured her by patting her shoulders.

"You need a little practise, that's all. Don't sweat it, kid. You'll pick it up in time." Frisk scowled impatiently, but even so, Sans' encouragement made her feel strong. Knowing that one day she may accurately hit the target with better aim filled her with determination. Then, as Sans' attention drew to Burgerpants shuffling suspiciously towards his car door, Frisk's shoulders slipped out of his grasp, "Keep practising, alright? I'll be over here for a bit. I need to talk to your new friend about some other related business."

Frisk nodded obediently and lifted the gun once more to aim the barrel at the can. But her curiosity wavered towards the two men. Her fingers rested against the trigger guard as she strained her ears, but their whispers were too quiet to hear a single word. Her interest was at its peak when Burgerpants erratically waved his arms like a mime, as if he was desperately attempting to explain something with his life on the line. Sans glared at him aggressively, and immediately, Burgerpants looked shaken. In Sans' intimidating presence, he leant back as if he was cowering from his hostile glare alone.

If that was the reaction to business with Sans, Frisk hoped she would never have to face a day where she had stumbled on Sans' bad side.

Burgerpants hurriedly yanked the car door open, rummaging clumsily beneath the driver's seat to pull out a duffle bag. He wasted no time in unzipping the case to grab a bundle of the contents. Once Frisk could make out exactly what it was, she audibly gasped out loud in shock...

…and her finger accidentally twitched over the trigger.

"Aahh!"

The gun recoiled so much that Frisk had been thrown backwards from the impact, and her hands stung from the trauma. The bullet kicked against a metal pillar hung over the ceiling, rebounded against the rusted chain-links dangling from the walls, and finally hit the target dead-on. When the can flew across the air and rolled over the floor, Frisk collapsed on her knees in fright. She quickly flicked the safety in place and she dropped the gun to the ground as if it had burnt her fingers.

She ran her sweaty hand through her hair as her eyes shot back to Burgerpants… who had wads of cash raining through his fingertips as he could barely manage to hold them all.

Sans applauded proudly, "Nice trick shot, kid. You're putting all the regular gunslingers to shame with an aim like that." Then, he snatched up several wads of cash out the duffle bag, and nonchalantly held them out for Frisk to take hold, "Here. This is your cut for helping me with the pick-up job. Don't go spending it all in one place. And I mean that."

Frisk could only stare back, blankly. The situation was barely sinking in as her aching hands remained stagnant by her sides. Her widened eyes glued to the chunk of money in his arms. Frisk had no idea where to begin. And the moment she could finally tear herself away from the sight of it, she slowly staggered back to her feet and out of her confusion.

"This... this is a joke, right? Th-there must be... what, more than ten thousand grand here? Why am I being paid so much for picking up weapons? Weapons that I own, apparently?"

"You're not being paid for that. You're being paid for this." Sans dropped her share of the money safely in the trunk of the car with the rest of the gear. Then, he turned over to the duffle bag, and held it high in the air to prove his point. "You helped me pick up Chara's paycheck. That was your job. The weapons are something extra from the boss herself."

"That's insane." Frisk shook her head as she began to gather sense of the situation, "This isn't some act of kindness. Chara's not like that. Not anymore. This is bribe money. She's paying me to keep my mouth shut. And all these guns... they're part of my recruitment, aren't they?"

"Call it whatever you want, little buddy." Burgerpants shrugged as he irritably flicked away the last remaining ashes from his cigarette, "Are you really complaining about earning over ten thousand grand in a day? You should be more excited. I know for a fact that there are people in this world who have never seen money like this before."

"And you think I have? I mean, can you _really_ blame me for feeling a little overwhelmed?" Frisk spluttered exasperatedly, "I'm not as easy-going about the _risks_ as you are, Burgerpants. What about these guns, huh? If I get caught by the cops – god forbid that ever happens – and they find all these guns in my possession, how the hell am I possibly going to explain myself? 'My mob sister bought them for me from some shady gun trafficker'? Yeah, that's going to sound real credible in the court of law!"

"Calm down, alright? I'm a certified arms dealer with a federal firearms license. In the eyes of the law, this transaction is completely legal. The way I obtain my products may be shady, but I protect myself and my clients because that's the way good business goes. Don't let the name fool you, I can do so much more than flip burgers for a living." Burgerpants squinted his reddened eyes at her as he repressed his irritation, but his patience worn thin as he bitingly warned her, "So if I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut and get what's given to you. Trust me, you don't want to piss off that sister of yours if you kick up a storm. She has a track record for creative punishments, so I'd think twice on insubordination."

Frisk refused to be intimidated as she irritably clicked her tongue.

"Fine. Excuse me for being overly-cautious. But answer me this – is all this money obtained through gun trafficking? It seems like a lot of money for one importer to handle. And personally, I'd like to know all the sources of my main income… for peace of mind."

As Frisk ended on that note, she quickly turned over to Sans who was reluctant to chime in on the discussion. But as Frisk continued to glare at him, Sans finally spoke up with his artificial smile all the more prominent on his jaded features,

"Your sister has an entire network of associates in the underworld. You think she runs an empire on the firearms market alone? That's pretty naïve, kid." Sans wheezed a laugh, but it sounded hollow and empty, as if he was laughing only to lock up what he truly felt inside, "Chara has her hands dipped into all aspects of the criminal business – politics, journalism, and anything else necessary to exploit for her own profitable gain. And you can bet the central vein of her wealth stems from her very own drug ring – the one that my former taskforce and very own _brother_ is intent on exposing."

Frisk caught her remaining breath in her throat in a sharp gasp. Burgerpants begrudgingly flicked away the last of his cigarette and continued for Sans,

"This collection of money is only a small portion of the entire operation. I pick up the money that our dealers in the field earn in a day, and this is what it all adds up to. Of course, it's divided and shared among our employees, like yourselves… but the majority goes straight into your sister's pocket. Without her, all of this wouldn't be possible."

Frisk held her head in her hands, shaking in disbelief.

"I don't understand... how could Chara do all this? She... she never used to be this way. She never used to be so... so _powerful._ What the hell happened to her?"

Sans shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he provided her with an unexpected response.

"From my understanding, your sister got involved with a former kingpin as a sort of apprentice in the business. I'd say it was the biggest mistake of his life. Because she quickly rose to take his place after developing a close relationship with his son."

Frisk's eyes grew large in shock, and her voice was barely audible as she stuttered,

"You… you mean Asriel?"

"That's right." Sans nodded with a teeth-baring grin, as if the entire situation was a laugh riot, "Chara really knows how to manipulate the hearts of weak-minded people. Once she had Asriel under her thumb, she clawed her way to the top with no regard for her former mentor."

"And what happened to him?"

"You may have already seen his face in the newspapers." At that point, Sans smiled so wide, his face split in two, and his voice was as low as it had ever been when he informed her coyly, "After all, he's recently been re-elected as mayor of the entire city."

…

…

The whir of the fan was the only buzzing sound from inside the office of special agent Undyne. She sat at her desk, enveloped in darkness with the blinds partly drawn. The gridded shadows from the blinds cast over her figure, and the fan blew crimson strands of hair delicately over her face, but still she paid it no mind. Notes on the drug-ring case had scattered in unkempt clutters over her desk. The blinking scarlet light on her answering machine flashed the number of her missed calls, but they all remained completely unnoticed.

Her golden eye focused on the phone laying like a heavy brick in her palm. It glared back at her, displaying the incomplete text she wrote for her girlfriend. _Alphys_. But her thumb hovered over the send option. It had been frozen there for almost an hour after meticulously writing and rewriting the text over and over again, until the words bled together and lost all meaning. In the end, she was left with this:

 _Al,_

 _I know times have been tough, but trust me – they don't last forever. We will get past this tough patch as tough people, together._

 _Promise me that you'll remember… you are braver than you believe. I've always seen it within you. If only you could see everything you are through my eyes. You'd never doubt yourself again._

 _I love you. Have a good day at work._

Undyne was incredibly close to pressing her thumb to send the text, but she didn't have faith in the words that she wrote. For so long, she worked up the courage to thread the core of her feelings into words and tell her how she felt, but Undyne never knew where to begin. Everything she thought of was never satisfying. Nothing she could think of truly captured the essence of what she felt, and it was frustrating to no end.

Eventually, she threw her phone on her desk in defeat, and collapsed with a sigh in her chair. It was hard to concentrate on her work when her mind always roamed to her girlfriend, who she constantly worried about since her decline in mental health. Undyne couldn't figure out why Alphys was suddenly so secretive. She dreaded that she may have been spending too much time at work to notice the reason. With all her heart, Undyne hoped this wasn't the case.

Suddenly, ripped from her melancholy, Papyrus knocked quickly on the glass pane of her door, and entered before Undyne could even begin to reply.

"Boss, I have something you might like to see!" He shouted excitedly with a cheerful smile plastered over his face.

Undyne pushed herself forward as she reeled from the darkest pits of her worrying thoughts. Papyrus slapped a newspaper against her desk with his hand firmly pressed against an article he had highlighted. And the head-line alone instantly captured her attention:

MAYOR ELECTION VICTORY SPURS CONTROVERSY OVER RUMOURS OF A DARK PAST

Papyrus ran his fingers over the large printed photograph of the man in question, and Undyne grabbed the paper for a closer look. Although it was a grayscale shot of his back with his head barely turned over his shoulder, there was enough detail for Undyne to pick up on one vital element. Her piercing gaze fluttered between her grinning partner and the incriminating photo, and audibly voiced their shared thoughts aloud,

"Our mayor looks a lot like the boy we saw at the parking lot earlier…"

Papyrus nodded enthusiastically, then laid his hands flat against the desk to lean forward with a wide smile.

"What if I were to tell you… that the boy you suspected earlier today… is actually the _son_ of our newly elected mayor?"

"You're kidding me!" Undyne sharply gasped.

She gripped tightly on to the newspaper and felt her heartbeat racing. Then, as her mind whirred with shards of information slowly connecting one by one, she launched from her chair towards a file cabinet beside her desk. Quickly, she rummaged through the folders until she found the documents detailing what she already knew about their mayor.

"It's no secret that this guy came from a troubled background. He used this aspect of his life as a sympathy angle to reel in the vote with one message in mind – anyone from any background is capable of anything... with the right intentions. He started out as a radical community speaker, but he soon rose to fame once his campaign increased in popularity in the local tabloids. His political stances border on the extreme, but his controversy sells. I guess it's true what they say – there's no such thing as bad publicity. And it seems that the majority of his voters overlook the fact that he is an ex-criminal."

She fanned out the pages of the archived documents about the mayor over her desk, and scanned them all over and over again until something vital caught her eye. Papyrus peered nearby as he watched Undyne hard at work, her broad shoulders hunched forward as she strained to read as fast as possible.

"We haven't been able to find out a lot about his family, other than his divorce from his wife and his estrangement from his son. As much as I'd like to find out about the connection between our mayor and the boy we met, the notes are too vague on his personal life. But still, the list goes on about his controversial lifestyle before his interest in politics. That alone seems worthy of investigating, wouldn't you say?" Before Papyrus could get any more excited, Undyne dejectedly threw the notes aside and sighed heavily, "Even so, they're only recorded counts of petty theft, with ambiguous rumours about his run-ins with the wrong crowd. Teenage level stuff. I'd have more incriminating evidence against him if it wasn't for the fact that all of our key witnesses on these reports turn out to be missing."

"…but boss, doesn't that make you wonder where they all went?" Papyrus chimed in with a cocked eyebrow and a crooked smile, "Doesn't it make you wonder if this mayor of ours _disposed_ of the witnesses to cover up any crimes that may expose him?"

Undyne nodded as she caught on to his suspicions, and grinned as she suddenly patted his shoulders excitedly.

"You're absolutely right! You're proving yourself to be worthy of your badge, rookie. Your brother would be so proud."

"…thank you!" He felt his chest swell his pride as his smile couldn't grow any wider.

And as Undyne grabbed a firm hold of his shoulders, she steadily caught him in her trademark piercing stare that could cut through ice.

"Papyrus, we're going to find out just how far the rabbit hole goes." Undyne smirked with a pumping heartbeat, revealed her tenacious determination and the gleam of her fangs as they peaked through her large mouth, and told him intensely, "It's about time I scheduled an interview with Mayor Asgore Dreemur."

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Four End. Chapter Five soon…_

* * *

 **Hi everyone, thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and if you have, please let me know in a review! I love feedback of all kinds, so please tell me your thoughts and ideas in a comment! Cheers again, and I will see you soon~!**

 **One more thing – the title of the chapter is a lyric from Aerosmith's song "Janie's Got A Gun". Seemed fitting!**


	5. Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Chapter Five :: _Everybody Wants To Rule The World_

…

Leather chairs had been knocked away, tossed aside to far corners of the office, and a singular desk lamp rolled across the carpet as its cracked bulb blinked in erratic intervals. The curtains draped over the arched windows seeped in the moonlight, where Mayor Asgore Dreemur stood beneath it with his large hand gripped around his outdated phone. The model felt like a brick in his palm, the screen was the scale of a small battery, and the garish emerald backlight highlighted the mayor's jaded features.

His blonde hair was long in length, much like his son's. However, his eyebrows were thicker and his beard was broader, which emphasised his masculine features and created a profile of great power and wisdom. But the creases around his frown were deep and the lines running over his forehead were accentuated by his never-ending grief. The tie around his neck was loosened, and his suit felt too tight as he breathed deeply on the come-down from an aggressive outburst.

Asgore had just finished his phone call with special agent Undyne of the FBI, and requested an interview the next day regarding his controversial past, as well as his son falling under suspicion of criminal activity. After the call had been cut, Asgore had flew into a powerful bout of frustration and threw his expensive furniture across his office with no regard. Plaques and awards had snapped off the walls, and the rich aesthetic of the interior had been torn apart. Still, Asgore didn't care. The only thing that mattered was fixing this mess and taking care of business, right then… _right now…_

The digital address book detailed the numbers of his family, who he hadn't spoken to in a very long time. He pressed the arrow keys of the phone as he scrolled through the numbers towards the one person he could always count on in hard times. He was certain that she would know the right words to say to give him strength, and he knew he could persevere upon hearing her voice alone. Slowly, he swallowed his heart from his throat as he hovered over the name of his ex-wife – Toriel.

The phone rang… and rang… and rang…

…and rang.

But the sound dried up. The halted dial tone sunk into silence as his heart broke in two.

Forced to stand alone, Asgore sadly pulled the phone away from his ear to search for the next number in his contacts. He felt numb as he came across the one name he despised upon all others, and reluctantly called her number with a faded glaze in his eyes. The phone rang once again, but unlike the last call, it only took roughly five seconds for the receiver to pick up the call. Asgore felt nothing but contempt for this woman, but despite his gruff voice sounding hoarse with pent-up aggression, he remained as professional as possible as he greeted her,

"…Chara. Are you free to talk?"

Her breathy voice was emotionless and impatient as it had always been when she replied.

"Yeah, I have time. What's up, big guy?" Chara teased with a serpent hiss, much to his displeasure. Asgore put aside his disdain as he sighed, and finally broke the news.

"I've just received a call from the FBI regarding the recent publication of my election results and the accusations made about my past…"

"Ah, so I've heard." There was a spiteful smile heard in the tone of her voice, and Asgore bit his tongue before his bubbling anger rose again. But it was difficult when Chara's voice became all the more viciously cheery, "I'm impressed by the unusual prompt response by the police. You've made quite a name for yourself, mayor. I suspect the FBI are relentlessly digging up whatever evidence they can find about you in their archives as we speak, so I'd get used to that spotlight for the time being. You know what the press can be like – they love a juicy politician scandal. And if you're worried about the consequences, don't be. I've got everything all worked out for you. Oh! Actually, you have impeccable timing – I have been meaning to call you. We need to arrange our next meet-up to discuss your next plan of action…"

"Th-there's more." Asgore stuttered with nerves.

Suddenly, Chara's voice dropped into a terrifying silence, and Asgore swallowed hard. He knew of Chara's tendency to react badly when any of her plans go awry, and the consequences were always frightening. She wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty with blood, and she was no stranger to burying innocent lives inside body bags. Asgore knew this very well first-hand, which is why it took a full minute to gather the courage to finally break the news,

"I don't know what this could be about, but I feel this is worth mentioning: the FBI have my son under suspicion of criminal activity. Speaking solely as a politician, this is compromising my already controversial campaign. But as a father… I'm so worried. Please tell me this is under control, Chara…"

There wasn't a sound to be heard on the other side of the call. For a long and agonising moment, Asgore could almost hear the thick tension rising as Chara's calculating mind whirred into action. He held on to his breath as the dead silence dragged on and on, and all Asgore could feel was his heart crashing excitedly against his chest. Finally, the terrifying atmosphere was abruptly ended as Chara's deadpan voice suddenly cut through the call,

"…meet me at our meet-up point in half an hour."

And without a second of warning, the dial tone dropped into a cold silence.

…

…

The clock had reached the hour before midnight, and the city's museums were still open to the public. The curators called these hours the graveyard shift as hardly any visitors wandered the halls of the exhibits. The faded spotlights mounted on the walls barely lit up the corridors, and gave the framed paintings an extra boost in mood and atmosphere. Asgore wondered if this was the main reason Chara liked using the art gallery as their meet-up spot.

He sat on a stone bench in the centre of the empty corridor, faced towards a largely scaled painting that had instantly caught his eye. The background of the painting had been washed in a glaring blood-red paint, and the black silhouette of two clashing bulls had been sketched over the surface. Asgore traced his eyes over their horns locked together, and admired the smudged outlines to purposely make the subjects look completely immersed in their bloody surroundings.

And as his attention had been stolen away by the intensity of the painting, the sound of sharp heels clicking and echoing against the ceramic flooring broke through his thoughts. When he peered over his shoulder, his beating heart collapsed to his stomach the moment his eyes met up with _hers_. And a sharp chill rang through his spine.

Chara was polished from head to toe, not a single hair was out of place. Her trademark military jacket hung over her slender shoulders, and a black netted top hid beneath it, just above her stomach to reveal her muscular abdomen. Her painted nails were sharpened like claws clasping over her pointed hipbones, with a silver knee-length pencil skirt resting over her waist. And finally, her long legs wrapped over with black stockings stepped into high-heeled boots with small splatters of dried scarlet blood decorated over her soles. Once Asgore noticed it, he didn't dare to ask what she had been doing during their call.

Chara confidently stepped towards the bench with a briefcase in hand, her vacant eyes wandered to the painting before them, and her cold features broke out into an amused smile.

"You have good taste as always, Asgore. I'm a fan of this artist. He depicts the animalistic desire for power so flawlessly, it's almost breath-taking. I can connect to this beautiful painting in a lot of ways. And I'm sure can too, can't you mayor?" She asked him as her cat eyes caught his gaze in an intimidating glare, and he simply nodded in compliance. "That's right. Because you know how it feels to fight for the position of ultimate authority – it's why we're both so drawn in by this painting. I wonder… can you take a guess on what I see in this exactly?"

Asgore blinked long and hard at the painting, and studied the fine details as if he was being tested. Every time he met up with Chara, she would always bait him into playing her cruel games until he eventually cracked beneath the pressure. He risked his life and took a wild guess,

"You're saying, um… we're the two bulls, right? And the bulls… they represent our powers clashing, battling for dominance…"

"Oh Asgore… that's implying that you had any kind of power to begin with." Chara laughed sadistically, taking pleasure in Asgore helplessly writhing under her thumb, and she shook her head as she corrected him, "No, our connection to it isn't quite so literal. It's the message that lies beneath the surface that we admire – the strong potency of power is so alluring that it drives us into bloody battle for the taste of it. Doesn't that sound so eloquent? My little sister once told me that. She has such an incredible way with words… anyway, I understand that you're drawn to sovereignty just as much as I am, which is why I've so generously helped you advance in your career. Are you not grateful that I gave you this position in political power, just like you always hoped?"

"Don't belittle me. I'm not in power of anything. Not really." Asgore spat bitterly, and glared at her heartless gaze with nothing but disdain, "I've known what I really am since you first admitted to rigging the election. I'm just your corporate puppet, nothing more."

"Tsk! I'd have thought you'd be more grateful, Asgore. You've wanted to make a difference all your life, and now that you're our mayor, I've made it a reality. Besides, you've had no objections to resorting to drastic measures in the past. If I'd have known that you'd have a problem with tampering with _a few_ ballot boxes, I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble. Although I'm having difficulties believing that a politician like you has any sort of moral compass. After all, it was _you_ who began this mafia branch in the first place, and it was _you_ who made me who I am today. But even so, I'll forever be indebted to you for all that you've done for me, Mayor Asgore."

"You have an unusual way of showing your gratitude." Asgore resentfully mumbled before he squared his eyes to the clashing bulls in the painting, and he refused to back down to Chara as he crossed his arms and lowered his voice, "Let's get to the point, alright? What are we going to do about the FBI?"

"Well, what _you're_ going to do is put on that goofy smile and carry on as normal. When you're interviewed by that special agent tomorrow, you will focus on your campaign, lay the charm on thick, and graze over your controversial family conflicts with a grain of salt. Remember – your image is everything! To the public, you're a single father with good intentions, getting by as best you can with a troubled past. That's something the public can relate to and sympathise with. But in that office… you follow _my_ orders, and _mine_ alone! You got that?"

Chara suddenly stepped closer to him, until her shadow encased him entirely in darkness like a powerful giant. Then, she finally snapped open the briefcase in her hands, took out a pad of documents, and held them out for Asgore to take. He couldn't mistake her devious grin at that moment – she had something planned.

"This is your next assignment: at your next debate, you will propose these legislations I have written up for you and see that they are passed into law. See, didn't I tell you that I'm a generous boss? I've already done half of the work for you!"

Hesitantly, Asgore skimmed through the documents and read through the highlighted points of each paragraph with careful consideration. As he flicked through each page, the main prospect of the legislations were slowly clicking together in his head like a puzzle piece, and his voice was quiet as he confirmed aloud,

"This looks like a proposal for budget cuts in our security service… oh, hold on a second… this can't be right…" Suddenly, Asgore loudly gasped as the entire premise finally pieced together into a bleak reality, and his loud voice shook with disbelief, "…you want us to stop funding our police?!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic! We are not going to stop funding them. Don't be absurd! We're just going to reduce their numbers a little, that's all." She shrugged her shoulders as if this entire operation was no big deal with no huge consequences at all, and Asgore almost choked at her nonchalant response. She brushed him aside as she continued, "I'm not comfortable with how progressive the FBI investigations are becoming, and with you and Asriel under the microscope, I'm beginning to feel the heat. And I'm not about to risk my empire that I've built on blood and sweat over some petty family feud of yours! So this is what's going to happen – you will cut the FBI's budget, and with less money for their investigations, they'll have less resources to progress any further. Crisis averted. Are we clear on that, Asgore?"

He spluttered incredulously as he frantically looked through the documents a second time, and he could barely take any of it in. His widened eyes switched back and forth from the pages to the terrifying woman who stood over him, and he stuttered erratically as he could barely believe this was all happening,

"This is completely insane! Do you really think the senators in office are going to take this seriously? I'm already in hot water as it is, how can I possibly convince anyone to legalise such a radical change?"

"That's what the mafia are for, mayor. Have you forgotten how we conduct our business already?" Chara approached him more closely, and practically lingered her face mere inches away from his. Asgore could see the cold-hearted nature her emotionless stare, as if she had numbed every empathetic sense left within her, and the fangs peeking through her sinister smile gleamed as she cheerfully sang, "Allow me to refresh your memory – we simply silence those who oppose us. You take care of the backdoor deals, slip a bribe or two into their pockets, and then… well, only then will you know the true extent of your position in power. With me, you'll be a force to be reckoned with! Together we'll run this city, seize its essence and mould a vision of our perfect world. This empire will run on for decades, and at the peak of domination… I'll see to it that this world will never be the same again."

Asgore was past the point of terror. At that moment, he was numbed to the feeling of overwhelming dread that this woman had mercilessly wrought within him. And without thinking twice, he spoke openly and honestly,

"I've never been sure if you want to rule the world or destroy it. Then again, with you in control, I can barely see the difference."

"Ah, you're starting to see the bigger picture at last." Chara dementedly giggled, and flicked her hair to the side almost victoriously. Then, as she straightened her back and flicked away the gathering dust from her military jacket, Chara passed Asgore an intimidating side glance with a small hint of a sly smile, and elegantly turned on her heels with a dismissive wave over her shoulder, "I'm glad we've come to this understanding. Don't disappoint me now. We'll meet again soon, mayor."

"Wait!" Asgore quickly called after her as he launched off the bench, and he pleaded with her one final time, "…what about Asriel? Chara, please… will you promise to keep my son safe?"

She didn't bother to turn around that time. Asgore stared helplessly at her back as he waited in anguish for her response. The cruel silence was more than he could bear at that point. Then, her head had barely moved an inch when she replied just as coldly as ever before,

"Your son is a loose cannon, Asgore, much like his parents in that aspect. It's nearly impossible to predict what he'll do next, and his impulsive behaviour has always been a concern of mine." She could practically hear his beating heart jump in his throat, and Chara slowly exhaled into a small sigh. Suddenly, her voice was sympathetic as she reached for the smallest thread of mercy she had left, "I suppose I'll admit… his loyalty has always surprised me. So I will do what I can to keep the FBI's focus away from him. I can't promise miracles, but I will do my best to keep your son safe. You fulfil your end of the bargain, and I'll follow through with mine. You have my word on that."

"Thank you." Asgore breathed heavily, as if a large weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

But Chara wasn't finished with him then.

Suddenly, her heels slowly clicked together on the flooring as she turned halfway at last to face him. Her smile was disconcerting, it looked almost unnatural on her unfeeling features, and the dark make-up encircling her scarlet eyes cast a terrifying shadow over her threatening expression. All of this was a sign that a bomb was about to be dropped… and Asgore's paranoia proved to be right as Chara told him bluntly without mercy,

"There's a rumour going around that Asriel wants to propose to me." Asgore's eyes flew open. A wave of horror stunned him into silence. Chara withheld a fit of laughter as she expected this reaction, and her cruel grin only widened as she spoke more cheerfully, "I'll be honest… the thought of marriage has never been of any interest to me in the past. But recently, I have been entertaining the idea. Now I can't say that the prospect of marriage doesn't appeal to me in some ways, after all I've never known what it's like to have a real family. So… it's possible that I wouldn't decline the offer. I'll leave you to dwell on that for now. Goodbye, Asgore."

Chara finally turned back on her heels, and paced confidently down the empty hallways of the gallery until she was completely out of sight. Asgore was left behind in the dust, forced to endure this new information without another soul to talk to. The air was cold and harsh, the lines on his colourless face deepened, and his heart weakened.

But still, he could do nothing… except follow orders.

…

…

The sun rose over the next day, and quickly sank again as the day passed by. The skyline over the city was painted orange as the clouds were barely seen over the horizon, and the ocean-blue galaxy had lit up into a beautiful array of warm colours as if it had caught on fire. The growing darkness of the looming evening crept up on Alphys as she sat motionless at the table, situated in the corner of her kitchen with a mug of untouched tea on the surface. As the sunset seeped through the windows, plastering speckled light over the walls and over her hair, her phone had been upturned in the centre of the table and casted an intimidating shadow that stretched towards her.

Every time the phone rang, her heart plunged to the deepest depths of her stomach, and her tongue tied as it ran dry with nerves. And yet, the anticipation of a call was almost just as frightening. Her eyes were glued to it, carefully awaiting the moment it sang for her attention. And as the day steadily went on, her tea remained intact, and cooled over time.

Suddenly, as the last remaining inch of sunlight glared over the city skyline, the entrance to Alphy's apartment clicked open, and finally tore her attention away from the phone. Almost immediately, her shaken nerves were forgotten the moment she saw who walked through the door. Clumsily, she stumbled to her feet as she pushed her short blonde hair to the side, and straightened her white blouse before her wide smile broke over her melancholy.

"Hey Al, I'm home." Undyne called over to her as she kicked off her boots and brushed her accentuated fingers through the loose strands of scarlet hair over her face.

"Welcome home, Undyne. I wanted to wait until you got here before we ordered pizza, just in case you got held up at work…"

Before she could continue, Undyne had suddenly squared her eyes to her girlfriend and grabbed a hold of her slender shoulders with a firm grip. Alphys sharply inhaled in surprise, and froze within Undyne's sincere gaze. Then, she gently urged her with a patient smile on her wide lips,

"Alphys, we talked about this. You don't have to make up excuses in front of me. I know you, remember? And I specifically remember that you don't like using the phone, even if it's just to order pizza. So you don't have to pretend to be something that you're not, especially in front of me. Tell me what you want and I'll order for the both of us. Alright?"

"Yeah, um… a-alright…" Alphys exhaled deeply, and her heart pounded as Undyne tenderly adjusted her askew glasses for her. In moments like this, she knew she was lucky to be with someone as understanding as her. Then, as Undyne wearily pulled apart her tie from around her neck, Alphys followed her like a lost puppy as they wandered to the sofa, and she asked whilst her girlfriend collapsed in exhaustion, "So, um… h-how did the interview with Mayor Asgore go?"

"Not as well as I hoped, unfortunately. Whenever I tried to steer the conversation towards his past, he would always turn it around into some kind of point towards his campaign. He acts like some born-again saint who's learned the errors of their ways, and now he's atoning for his sins by giving back to the community and running for office. It's like he thinks he's the reincarnated version of Robin Hood or something." Undyne sighed as she leant her heavy head against the pillow, and yet her eyebrows furrowed as she snarled with determination, "There's something in my gut that tells me he's a phony, Al. I don't know how exactly, but I can feel it deep down – this guy isn't right. He spoke in a rehearsed way, almost like someone else had put words in his mouth. But I suppose that's politicians for you. It's a goddamn circus."

Alphys lowered herself to the sofa and leant towards her girlfriend with an unsteady glaze eyes, then her wavering nerves made her stutter as she seemed almost too afraid to ask,

"Didn't you say that you met his son yesterday? Did he, um… d-did the mayor talk to you about his family at all?"

"Yeah, he did. To be honest, I was a little surprised by what he said." Alphys leant closer, her eyes widening with curiosity as Undyne explained, "I couldn't believe it. He was so open to the fact that he doesn't have a good relationship with his son and his ex-wife. I would have thought after all the tabloid exposure, he'd want to keep his private life under wraps, but when I asked about it, he sounded so… _optimistic_. He told me how hard he's working to reconcile with them, and he doesn't blame them at all for their choice to distance away from him. God, he even shed a tear when he was talking about how much he missed them, I almost felt sorry for him. This guy really knows how to work the public."

"That's politics, I… I guess." Alphys shrugged with a shaken smile, then grabbed a tight hold of the cushions as she finally asked the question that had been burning in her mind, "So, wh-what's your verdict? Is our mayor and his son still under s-suspicion?"

"Honestly, I don't see any point to pursuing this guy any further." Undyne admitted with an exasperated sigh, "The lead's gone cold and I'd just been wasting my time. All I have left to go on is a gut feeling, but it isn't enough. We don't have nearly enough resources to investigate leads based on vague intuitions, so as far as our mayor and his son is concerned… they're in the clear."

Alphys caught on to the subtle hints of melancholy in Undyne's disappointment, and she shuffled forward on the sofa to slowly wrap her arms around her girlfriend's waist, and rested her head against her neck as she gently sympathised,

"I'm sorry, Undyne. I know how much you wanted this lead to work out…"

"It's alright." She answered with a sad smile, and dragged her strong arm over Alphys' shoulder to hold her close in return. Then, with her girlfriend fuelling her determination, her chest swollen with tenacious energy as she refused to be defeated, and her large mouth broke into a wider grin, "I'll crack this case eventually. I'm so close to finding our kingpin, Al. I can feel it. I'm just waiting for the moment someone slips up, and I want to be there when they do. My handcuffs are gathering cobwebs, and I'm itching for the chance to use them again."

"You will. I believe in you." Alphys assured her, and she felt her heartbeat spike up to her throat the moment she felt Undyne's lips press tenderly over her hair. Alphys didn't want to let go of her at that point, and nestled closer to her girlfriend as she hung over her side for dear life. She felt so safe every time they had a moment to be like this, and Alphys wished that time would freeze for eternity. As she found herself smiling without noticing it, Alphys was certain that nothing in the world could bring her down from the high of her happiness at that moment.

Then, Undyne held out her free hand, and said with a large grin,

"Pass me the phone and I'll order our pizza, okay? There's something about unsuccessful investigations that always puts me in the mood for junk food."

Alphys laughed as she slowly managed to tear away from Undyne's embrace, and casually walked over to the table with a cheerful spring in her step. She took a brief moment to reflect on how much her mood always lifts whenever Undyne returns home from work, and she clasped her hand over her chest to feel the fast pace of her heartbeat as she smiled to herself. With all of her heart, she wished that this feeling would never end…

But as her delicate hands reached for the phone on the table, it suddenly sang to life. Almost immediately, Alphys' world plunged once again into hopeless darkness as she read the number on its screen.

Slowly, Alphys held the phone to her chest and hesitantly called over to Undyne, without revealing the terror cascading over her expression as she did,

"Ah, sorry Undyne. I… um, I have to take this. I think it's my work calling…"

Without giving her a chance to reply, Alphys quickly rushed to their bedroom and made sure to fasten the door behind her. As the sun had sunk behind the horizon, Alphys was swallowed in near darkness as the largely-scaled bedroom window seeped in the last remaining sunlight from the fiery skies. Then, her steps felt hollow as she wandered blankly around the bed, towards the window panes with her faint reflection staring back in horror. Every inch of her wished that she didn't have to answer this call, but the lingering threat that hovered over her insubordination was too frightening to handle.

Hesitantly, Alphys answered the call, and slowly lifted the receiver to her ear. For a moment, there was only a haunting silence from the other end, until a familiar breathy voice sounded out and cut through the tension,

"…is she home?"

Alphys swallowed hard. _Chara._

"Yes. Undyne t-told me everything. I've got a-all the information y-you wanted. Just like you a-asked."

"Well done, Alphys. I can always count on you to get the job done smoothly. And look at the time, it didn't take you long at all. You're proving to be of excellent use to our operation. I'm very impressed with your progress." Chara praised her cheerfully, but her dark laughter soon cut short as she skipped straight to the point, "So Alphys, tell me truthfully now… are Mayor Asgore and Asriel still under suspicion of the FBI?"

She shook her head, before she clumsily remembered that there was no way Chara could see her over the phone, and hurriedly answered,

"No, Undyne told me there's no solid evidence and called off any further investigations involving the Dreemur family. They're all cleared of suspicion."

"Understood. Excellent work, Alphys. The mafia will increase your compensation for your exemplary service this week."

"Uh… um, boss…" As Chara seemed to nearly hang up the call right then and there, Alphys dared to speak up, but her trembling nerves were shot as she could barely form a coherent thought, and so she timidly stuttered, "Does this mean you w-won't, um… y-you w-w…"

"…I won't kill Undyne?" Chara asked without a trace of emotion, and Alphys felt an incredibly sharp and painful sting in the depths of her heart. And it was made worse as she heard Chara impatiently click her tongue in reply, "Oh Alphys, my dear, didn't we already agree that I won't hurt you or your lover so long as you follow my orders? No, your work with the mafia is far from over. You're finally showing me your full potential, and I'm very impressed by the results. As long as you keep this up, you will both live under my strict protection. I can't let your talent go to waste after all you've done for us, can I? But, of course, if there is any sign of treason or poor productivity, then I won't hesitate to drive a power tool very slowly through your girlfriend's cranial cavity and make you watch. Then I will put my gun barrel into your mouth and pull the trigger. Are we absolutely clear on that?"

Alphys was stricken into horrified silence, and it took everything she had within her to find her voice to finally reply,

"…y-yes, boss."

Chara sighed as she noticed how quiet her voice suddenly became, and Chara's tone surprisingly softened as she tried to ease off,

"You have to understand, Alphys, I really don't want to do any of that to you. Like I said, you have talent and it'd be such a shame to waste it. My only interest is in unlocking your potential, because you're a valuable asset to my business. I can see something in you that no one else can. You're a very smart woman, Alphys. You're going to achieve great things in your future with us, I can already tell. Just… obey my orders, and nothing's ever going to happen to you. That's not hard, is it?"

Alphys resisted the urge to laugh out of fear, and simply shook her head in reply,

"…no, boss."

"I'm glad we had this chat, my dear." Chara sounded satisfied, and Alphys had hoped that had been the end of the call, until a sharp inhale was heard on the other end of the call as Chara suddenly remembered, "Oh! And there's just one more thing – I have a job for you tonight. I need you to accompany Asriel and my sister to the studio of celebrity journalist Mettaton. Exciting, no? I understand you're a fan of his."

Alphys had to blink twice before any of that truly sank in, and she replied in shaken awe,

"Y-Yes! I am! I… I listen to his radio broadcasts all the time! And I watch all of his shows, listen to all his songs, buy all his merchandise…"

"That's great, Alphys, I'm sure you two will get along famously." Chara coldly dismissed her enthusiasm as she skipped ahead once again to the point, "Now in regards to our business, I need you to pick up our cut of Mettaton's earnings. His view count has been rising recently and we're very interested on the increasing rate of his wages. If you suspect at all that he's withholding a percentage of earnings that we're owed, then you must tell my Asriel. He has his… _ways_ of beating the truth out of people."

"You're… um, y-you're taking a percentage of Mettaton's money?" Alphys asked in reeling surprise, "Wh-what is he paying you for?"

"Who do you think is responsible for the sudden increase in viewership?" Chara's laughter sounded hollow, and it ran unpleasant shivers down Alphy's spine, even as Chara continued to explain, "Mettaton is paying us to steer the competition away from the city so that his position as number one entertainment channel remains that way. In exchange, he gives us compensation and control over what we deem newsworthy. In other words, we can prevent any crime we committed from gaining any publicity by censoring the news, and we can provide scapegoats when it's necessary. There's certainly no business like show business, my dear."

"So… y-you own Mettaton's studio… and use his image to c-control the media?" Alphys almost choked. She could barely believe what she was saying, and she couldn't understand how Chara could sound so nonchalant and upbeat about this.

"Media is a powerful tool in our modern times, Alphys. You should know that better than anyone." Her sly smile was heard in the jovial tone of voice, and her cheery attitude never once wavered as she ended on that note, "I'll give you until nine o'clock tonight to get yourself dressed up nice to meet your idol at the Underground. We'll be waiting in anticipation for you. See you then."

The line quickly dropped dead, and the dial tone hummed in Alphys' ears.

With a quick glance at the clock, she knew she had at least a few hours to be with Undyne. Alphys hoped that in that time, the hours spent with her girlfriend would be enough to pass over the courage to pull through another night in the custody of the mafia. And as she punched in the number for their local pizzeria, she took a long and lasting breath before she headed out the door, and finally passed the phone to Undyne.

Meanwhile, Chara sat back in her leather chair the moment she hung up the call. In the office at the back of the Underground club, she slid her phone across her desk table, and her ice-cold stare quickly flickered over to her wide-eyed boyfriend on the other side. Asriel, with his arms stiff by his sides and perspiration rolling down his temples, swallowed hard in her hardened gaze, and waited in nervous anticipation until Chara's blood-painted lips finally parted,

"…did you catch all of that?" Her voice had no trace of the same cheerfulness she expressed over the phone.

Asriel ran his hand through the unkempt mane of his long dirty hair, and kept his wavering nerves at bay as he replied,

"You want me to take Alphys and Frisk to Mettaton's studio, right?" Chara nodded slowly without breaking eye-contact, and Asriel shrugged as he dared to seem nonchalant, "Sure, I'll do it. I have to start making it up to you somehow, don't I?"

"You can start by behaving yourself on this mission." She sharply warned him without an ounce of amusement in her severely angered expression, "Your carelessness has caused a lot of unnecessary backlash for me, and I won't have you compromising your father's career once again because of your irrational impulses to screw everything up!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, I couldn't give a damn what happens to my father!" Asriel spat bitterly, and he snarled as he begrudgingly crossed his arms, "Honestly, I'm waiting for the day that Asgore gets locked up. Maybe then he'll finally stop trying to call me…"

Suddenly, Asriel was interrupted as Chara's leather chair sharply scratched against the floorboards, and without a moment to spare, Chara stormed around her desk with a frightening shadow cast over her darkened eyes, and without any warning, she quickly pulled out a silver handgun from the holster beneath her military jacket. Asriel jolted in shock, but he didn't dare to move an inch as Chara pinned the end of the gun barrel against his jawline. The sting of the cold steel made him flinch, but Chara's intimidating glare froze him in place. He could see the blazing fury in her scarlet eyes at that point, and the insanely terrifying image of her fingers twitching over the trigger guard. He knew then – one false move, and she won't hesitate to pull it.

As she inched her infuriated face closer to his, Chara threatened through the grit of her teeth,

"Listen to me. I don't give a fuck about your petty family squabbles. What I _do_ give a fuck about is Asgore's career! That man has a position of _real_ power that we can use, do you understand that? He's the _mayor!_ Do you even realise what kind of advantages that gives us? He has jurisdiction to change the way our entire city is run! And I'm not about sacrifice everything I've worked for because of another one of your pathetic family grudges! So get your shit together and don't disappoint me for the second time!"

She held him in place for a minute longer as Asriel slowly dared to swallow in fear. Until finally, she pulled away the gun as she withdrew it back into the holster. With a sigh, she adjusted her jacket and slowly took a moment to breathe and calm her anger. Asriel's shoulders fell as Chara turned her back to him dismissively, and he felt his heart tearing apart. As he brushed his fingers over the messy stubble of his chin, the cold bite of the steel gun left behind a melancholy void in his chest. Quietly, he pleaded to her,

"…alright. I... I'm sorry, Chara. I swear I'll get my shit together. Just… please, don't be angry with me." Slowly, he approached her from behind, and slid his arms around her waist to hold her to him, and ran his fingertips over the shape of her curvaceous contours. His lips formed the words he softly spoke over the skin of her neck, and begged for her response, "God, I hate it when we're like this. We used to be so damn good together, Chara. Can we go back to that for one night? Can't we call off tonight… so I can make it up to you in a different way?"

Asriel's voice trailed away as he reached forward to press his lips to her snow-white skin, but she jerked her neck to the side and cruelly brushed him away as she broke free of his grasp. With a disgusted glare, she scolded him without an ounce of emotion,

"Take a cold shower, Asriel. Your incompetence isn't putting me in the mood." Asriel hesitantly stepped back, feeling neglected and abandoned, even as Chara waved dismissively at him without looking back at him, "Go wait at the bar until Frisk and Alphys arrive, I don't want you in my office anymore. I have work to do and you're distracting me."

Asriel was about to object, and his mouth hung open with his voice on the edge of his throat. But he knew she had too much control over him. Reluctantly, he backed down, and frowned.

"…fine."

Despite the sinking feeling of being ignored and forgotten, and as much as he wanted to... Asriel didn't dare to oppose his love. He couldn't do it, not to Chara. She had him wrapped around her sharpened finger, and she knew he would lasso the moon for her if he could.

And so, in the midst of his unrequited despair, Asriel stormed out the office, and angrily slammed the door behind him.

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Five End. Chapter Six soon…_

* * *

 **As always, thank you so much for reading this! I apologise for slow updates, and I hope this chapter makes up for it! Please let me know what you thought of it in a review. I read every one, and I love you all for taking the time to write to me! I swear, reviews fill me with determination! Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter, and I'll see you all soon~!**


	6. My Baby Shot Me Down

Chapter Six :: My Baby Shot Me Down

…

Frisk was the last to arrive at the Underground. The foul stench of musky tobacco was the same as ever as she pushed through the double doors of the entrance, and she waved away the thick smog to forcefully push through the crowds towards the corridor, winding around the back of the building. Again, shady looking characters walked these halls, and shot judgemental side-glances to Frisk as she passed them by. But no one dared to say a word to her, because they knew who she was… and specifically, who she was related to.

She didn't wait for anyone to let her inside, and infiltrated her sister's office without any warning to anyone. Immediately, Frisk was met up with Chara's trademark scarlet eyes as she was caught off guard by Frisk's straightforward entrance. Chara sat over the edge of her desk, her shapely legs had crossed in an elegant formation, and her straightened hair looked as impeccable as it always did. But her jovial smile looked unnatural on her blood-soaked lips, even as she sang her sister's name in excitement,

"Frisk! I'm so glad you could make it! Today has been dragging on for too long, I was practically counting down the minutes until I could see you!" She pushed herself from her desk to bound towards Frisk with her arms readily opened, and Frisk almost stumbled backwards from the insane force of her sister's strong embrace. Then, as quickly as she came, Chara hurriedly twisted on her heels to turn towards the third party lingering awkwardly in the centre of the office, "Frisk, I'd like you to meet my personal secretary. Her name is Alphys, and don't worry, I trust her to look after you and Asriel tonight."

Frisk's eyes wandered to the timid little woman standing with her hands clasped over her arms, and a tinge of rose-coloured speckles flushed over her face as her glasses fell further down her ski-slope nose. Her nervous disposition reminded Frisk of the encounter she made with another blonde-haired woman she had bumped into on her first night at the Underground, and Frisk's mouth dropped open as she suddenly pieced it all together.

"Oh, I remember you! We've met before!" Frisk gasped in awe, and approached her with a small friendly smile as to not startle her. And when she held out her hand, Frisk withheld a laugh, "It's nice to be formally introduced this time."

"Um, o-of course… likewise, I mean! Nice to m-meet you too…" Alphys stuttered as her hand trembled in Frisk's grasp. They shook briefly, and Alphys couldn't get over how Frisk's personality seemed like the complete polar opposite to her twin sister, but it had only made her twice as anxious as before. Especially as Chara quickly tore them apart as she suddenly draped her arm around Frisk's shoulders, and strained a cheerful grin,

"You ladies are lucky tonight! I've called up Mettaton and he's offered to pick you up for a night out! Make sure you don't party too hard, though. This is still a business call, no matter how Mettaton wants to dress it up." Chara informed them as she squared her eyes to Alphys with a sudden unamused frown, "You're a sensible woman, Alphys, so I trust you to keep an eye out for trouble. I suspect Asriel may be a little more aggravated than usual tonight, so stay vigilant. He may be searching for an outlet to vent all of his petty little frustrations on. If we don't want another brush with the law, specifically with _your girlfriend_ , then I suggest you keep tabs on the boy. Make sure you keep him in line. Understood?"

With an audible gulp, Alphys reluctantly nodded her head. And Frisk tilted hers in confusion.

"Why's her girlfriend involved in this?"

"Friends, lovers, and relatives of my employees are always a concern of mine, Frisk. Especially if they're important figures in the law enforcement agency." She feigned a tone of compassion, but it fell on deaf ears as the sinister curl in her smile gave her away when she turned back to Alphys, "What was your girlfriend's name again? Undyne, am I right? Well, as I had found out that Undyne was the agent-in-charge of the drug dealer busts in my territory, I made it necessary to recruit Alphys into my organisation as quickly as possible. She's been a dream – not only does she infiltrate the heart of the federal investigations, she also has a degree in computer science! Which means she handles all of our complicated finances on top of all that! Undyne is lucky to have someone as talented as you in her life, Alphys! And so am I!""

As Chara playfully punched her arm with a carefree laugh rolling off her serpent tongue, Alphys withdrew into herself as her immeasurable guilt for betraying her girlfriend secretly consumed her. Meanwhile, Frisk desperately kept herself from gasping all the more as she slowly placed where she had heard Undyne's name before. Papyrus' voice echoed in her mind as she replayed exactly what he told her from Muffet's diner:

" _Undyne has been working me into the ground since we've taken up this on-going drug ring case… she believes these last few drug dealer arrests are some primary clues towards unearthing this big-time organisation with direct ties to some illegal protection service… most likely the mafia…_ _ **the mafia**_ _…"_

Frisk pressed her lips into a tight line as sweat visibly ran down her temples. Internally, she wondered how much information Chara had collected about all of her employees, especially regarding their families. And then, she was all the more hesitant to wonder… _how much does she know about Papyrus?_

She kept her mouth shut the entire time as Chara led the women out the back of the establishment where all the cars were parked, and Asriel was spotted silently smoking his cigarettes with his back leant against the wall, moistened with grime and plastered with graffiti. He barely even acknowledged their presence as they lingered nearby, and Frisk arched an eyebrow when she noticed how Chara hadn't even glanced at him once. The unusual nature of their relationship was completely lost on her, she had to wonder if they were even truly together.

And just as she was about to question her sister about it, her attention was soon stolen away by the sudden appearance of a white stretch limo crawling up the back alleys, with its pristine exterior sorely juxtaposed to the sleazy environment it parked into. Frisk's jaw dropped to the ground the instant it had parked right beside them.

"Ever been in a limo before, Frisk?" Chara asked, barely containing her excitement to see her reaction. Meanwhile, Frisk was speechless as her eyes ran down the sparkling silver trim, and the divine white gloss of the paint that almost blinded her.

And just as she thought her eyes couldn't grow any larger, the car door slowly peeled open, and a pointed pink boot curled around it to crush the gravel underneath its sharp heel. Frisk moved her captivated gaze over the insanely long length of a slender leg wrapped in a tight raven catsuit, clung to their body like second skin. The further the tight spandex travelled up their figure, the more the outfit had complemented the curvaceous contours of their bulging hips which had cinched over their slender waist. And as the door revealed the entirety of their newest guest, Alphys let out an incredibly loud and audible gasp as she captured her mouth with her hands, before whimpering his name,

"…Mettaton…"

His smile was daunting, but most of all… _voluptuous_.

"Hello, beauties. Oh, I know that look. You're disappointed in this mundane little outfit I'm wearing, right? Darling, I sincerely apologise that my suit isn't nearly as distracting as it should be. My standards are usually so much higher than this old thing. Anyway, I've had to come straight from my studio, so I haven't had the chance to change into something more garish and glamorous." He laughed heartily as he flicked his slender wrist elegantly through his sweeping charcoal hair.

Frisk recognised this celebrity from all the television channels, radio stations, and billboards all over the city. Mettaton was a household name, known for his popular entertainment, his trendy fashion choices, and cutting edge news reports, and it was almost as if his bloated image was just as famous as the man himself. Frisk could barely believe that this media giant was the long-legged character with the figure of a model standing before her.

He was taller and more tanned in person, with toned arms clasping over his swollen hips, broad shoulders extending his slender neck, and accentuating his effeminate jawline. Jet black lipstick had painted over his upper lip, whilst a shocking pink shade coloured his pouted lower lip, and the sunken corners of his mouth shaped deviously towards his sharp cheekbones, highlighted by a white blush line in his makeup. His professionally cut hair was thick, dark, unkempt, and swept over his right eye in the familiar style of a 1940's femme fatale.

Although nothing made more of an impression on the women than his heavily painted cat eyes, with sweeping ebony eyeliner creating a smouldering impression on his features, and the steep arch of his eyebrows that had boosted his intimidating persona all the more. Also, the greyscale tattoos inked over his arms detailed beautifully robotic designs to create the illusion of synthetic limbs, and his facial makeup played up this conception with elegantly drawn pencil lines stretching down his cheeks like black trails of tears.

The way he moved was mesmerising, especially as he placed one slender leg before the other as if he was walking down the runway, stomping on the world as if he owned it, and using his nails as a comb through his ash-coloured hair as he approached them. His effeminate philosophies expressed through his costumes had blurred the lines on the perception of gender, creating a rippling effect on modern society in an exciting and fresh new way. Trendy, controversial, confident, and above all, insanely ego-centric – Mettaton was the voice of the common folk…

…but that's only what he _made_ them believe.

Behind the curtains, Chara pulled his strings like a puppet. And Mettaton was powerless to stop her. Nevertheless, as Mettaton stood before her, the two looked like an immaculate pairing, as if they had escaped from the front cover of Vogue magazine. Together, they gave off an enormous presence that electrified the tension between them, almost as if sparks flew off their fingertips alone. Frisk and Alphys observed in awe from the side-lines, unable to say a word as Mettaton finally broke through the silence,

"Chara, my darling, you look absolutely stunning tonight!" He courteously kissed the air on both sides of her cheeks, and audibly smacked his lips for a wet-sounding effect to make it more convincing. Chara's powerful stare hardly moved an inch, even as he took her arms in his into a respectful embrace, "Are you sure that you don't want to come out with us tonight? I appreciate your willingness to lend me your boyfriend for the night, but I wouldn't need so many of your escorts if you just came along instead…"

"You know me, Mettaton, I'm far too busy running an empire to take one night off. But you needn't worry so much, because one of your escorts tonight also happens to be my dear twin sister." She once again draped her arm over Frisk's shoulders, locking her strength around her neck like a cage as she suddenly dragged her sister into the scene. Frisk gasped breathlessly as Chara introduced her with a grin, "Can you see the resemblance? It's uncanny, right? Anyway, Frisk has never experienced a night out on the town, so I trust that a party animal like yourself would be best suited to show her just how wild this city can get. Just bring her back to me in one piece, alright?"

"I'll do more than that, darling. I'll make sure she's staggering home with her make-up running, clothes torn to shreds, and with – most of all – the memories of a night she won't ever forget." Mettaton promised as he passed Frisk a sultry wink, stirring an uncontrollable red hot flush over her complexion. And with a tilt of his head, his orchid eyes quickly flashed towards Alphys, who wore the brightest blush he'd ever seen on a woman. With a crooked smile, his rouged hand balanced against his hipbone as he amusedly remarked, "Well, you're nothing like any of Chara's other cronies I've seen before."

Alphys trembled uncontrollably as she timidly held out her petite hand, and struggled to maintain eye-contact with his scorching gaze. She could've sworn the sunset itself had been captured in the hue of his irises as he intensely stared down at her from his impressive height, and she struggled to work past her nerves as she stuttered,

"I… I'm, uh… my n-name is Al… Alphys… I'm a h-huge f-fan…"

Mettaton breathed out slowly, secretly thankful that Chara hadn't hired another thug to escort him that night, and his painted mouth stretched into a genuine smile as he gently took her hands into his, then he gently shook it before he affectionately replied,

"Thank you for being a fan of my work, Alphys. Let's have a good time tonight, okay?"

Her smile couldn't widen any more at that point as Mettaton appeared to be a genuinely down-to-earth celebrity, and the warmth in his eyes was evidence of this. And although her face had flourished a deep cherry colour, her shaky smile was as bright as it possibly could be, and her heart soared in star-struck awe.

Next, as Asriel finally threw the last of his withered cigarette away, he followed the girls as they were lead into the interior of the limo. Frisk's jaw once again fell open as her eyes traced the bar, littered with pristine wine bottles and glasses, and plum-coloured lighting along the floors and the trim. She fell back into the leather seats, and Alphys sat close by with her knees locked together and her hands placed rigidly over her thighs. She looked truly out of her comfort zone, whilst Frisk readily embraced it.

Meanwhile, Asriel lingered against the car door as he gave one last longing look to Chara, with his eyebrows knitted up in anguish. And as she glared with her legendary cold-hearted scarlet eyes, she warned him harshly,

"Remember what I told you – get your shit together, and don't disappoint me a second time." She crossed her arms, tilted her chin to the skies as a dark shadow enveloped her severely angered eyes, and finally snapped without any remorse, "If you disrespect me and my business again... if you take _one more_ step out of line, then I promise you right here, right now… you will _regret_ it. Hear my words, Asriel. Your worth will have the same value as the dirt beneath my heels. And I will wipe you away _just_ as easily."

The look of shock and horror that ensnared his expression at that moment was forever cemented in Frisk's mind. She had never seen a person so filled with heartbroken rejection until she spied the man outside the limo, clinging desperately on to the car handle as he sunk miserably to the seat beside Mettaton. His fingers shook uncontrollably as he slammed the door shut, and the life from his eyes had completely deserted him. And as Frisk quickly glanced out of the tinted windows, she was floored by the glimpse of a cruel grin pulling at her sister's lips, almost as if she took pleasure in the overbearing control she had over her boyfriend. A freezing shiver ran down her spine as the limo crawled away, and left her twin in the dust.

"…I see that woman hasn't changed a bit." Mettaton commented irritably as he reached for his wine glass, and suddenly glanced to the girls with a twisted grin curled upon his heavily painted lips, "Now I understand you ladies have never been to a VIP party, right? Don't worry my darlings, you'll be in safe hands if you stick with me. I won't let anyone force you to do anything you don't want to do, that's just rude and obnoxious. But hear me out… if you're _really_ interested in having a wildly mind-altering experience… there will be some, ah, fairly _taboo_ party essentials that you are more than welcome to take part in…"

"Mettaton, stop with the bullshit and give me everything you have." Asriel snarled as he crossed his arms and his muscles tightened with high tension, and he declared with bitter disdain, "I wanna get so mind-numbingly fucked up to the point where I can no longer feel… like this…"

Unamused with his impatience, Mettaton squared his feline eyes at him, sighed as he elegantly flicked his hair over his shoulder, and reached forward to pick out a glittery bag from the glove compartment beneath the wine bottles. With grace and poise, Mettaton jerked the zipper open, and pinched a small plastic bag filled with white powder inside. Asriel observed like a hungry wolf as Mettaton tipped the contents over the glass table surface, and used a sharp razorblade to divide the powder into lines. Then, he sat back with his legs swiftly crossed, and courteously held out his hand to invite Asriel to be the first to partake… to which he gladly obliged.

Asriel shuffled forward, eagerly bent forward, and loudly snorted. The line of cocaine had completely disappeared by the time he had finished, and the veins on his forehead pulsated as the drugs shot straight to his head with a sudden burst of euphoria exploding within. His face reddened as he gritted his teeth, and in the midst of this incredible high, Asriel shouted out some unintelligible battle cry, and sharply smashed his fist against the glass table. Alphys jumped in shock as his knuckles cut open from the shards splintering through his skin, but he was too far gone to care.

Then, Mettaton appeared completely unfazed to this violent outburst as he picked out two colourful tablets from a tin in his bag, and hovered them nearby the girls in the palm of his hands. Alphys immediately shook her head and hands in protest,

"Oh… n-no, I'm not interested in… i-in _that_ kind of thing. I'm not going to drink either… I'm, uh… I'm pretty straight-edge…"

"Honey, you do whatever you want to do. I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do." Mettaton gently assured her, before he swiftly diverted his attention to Frisk, who had visibly began to sweat as her eyes were glued to the pills laying almost innocently in his slender palm, and his velvety voice sensuously dragged out his words, "Frisk, was it? You look like the sort of girl who's down to party. You want to kiss the sky with me, darling?"

Frisk was hesitant at first. Every inch of her common sense had been internally screaming at her to refuse and follow the example of Alphys, but her heart was far too curious. All this time, her mind had been tortured by the frustrations and worries of this new life under her sister's suffocating wing, and with this reminder plaguing her every thought, somehow Frisk had finally convinced herself that she deserved to have some fun. Even if the key to loosening up was compacted in a brightly-coloured pill, decorated with a single red heart engraved on the surface.

Without a single word, her eyes could not tear away from Mettaton's heavily-lidded gaze as she reached forward to pinch the pill from his palm, and slowly placed it on the tip of her tongue. And finally, she tilted her head back as she felt it roll mercilessly down her throat, and loudly gulped as it popped into her stomach. Mettaton followed suit, all whilst his mischievous smirk hadn't flinched, and his eyes barely blinked as he puckered his lips the moment he swallowed the ecstasy. All they had to do then… was wait for it to take effect.

Asriel seethed with overwhelming energy beside them as Alphys sunk lower in her seat between Mettaton and Frisk, who hadn't once removed their gazes from each other. And the moment the music blaring in the background dissolved into the air, as Frisk felt her eyes dilate more and more, Mettaton laughed through his crooked smile,

"Looks like our night is just about to start."

…

…

'The Core' – it's the name of the high-profile club that all the A-list celebrities frequented. Situated at the centre of the city life, it was lit up with every neon light imaginable, it had long lines stretching on for miles, and Mettaton's celebrity status had allowed his crew past them all without any trouble. It was like he was walking down the red carpet as fans screamed his name as he passed them by, and he dominated the world he trod on as he confidently greeted the bouncers and lead his three escorts inside the building.

By the time they arrived, Frisk was far gone. The world became a fast-paced blur, and she was torn from the reality she once knew. They entered through arches of dark hallways, bathed in glaring crimson lights as the floor shook from the heavy bass-lines, setting life to the air. Frisk hadn't even noticed as she finally entered the main event, where several dance floors scattered amongst the enormous rooms on different levels, filled to the brim with energised dancers as they waved around glow sticks and drinks. Their voices were drowned out by the music, blasting to ear-splitting volumes and shaking the ground beneath their feet. It was an intimidating scene at first, until Mettaton dragged Alphys and Frisk by the wrists to the centre of a private booth where he climbed on the table tops, and wasted no time in shaking his hips to the vibrating music as if he had been hypnotised by it.

And suddenly, Frisk could feel it hit her like a freight train. The music was no longer pushing and pulling her around, and instead, she felt herself flowing alongside the airwaves as if she was a slave to the sounds. The self-conscious voice in her mind had been censored and silenced, and she could only describe the overwhelming liberating emotions she felt at that moment as earth-bending. All of her doubts and worries had been swallowed by the urge to stay alert, stay active… _and dance._

Nothing could explain how much she wanted to dance for as long as her body could maintain it. Nothing could drag her away from the high platform of total euphoria as she immersed herself in the heavy flow of the bass-lines ripping through the air like atmospheric quakes. It was true freedom, and the vibrant colours of flashing neon colours swirled into a hallucinogenic void that playfully reminded her… she was well and truly _fucked up_.

But throughout the entire intense experience, Frisk managed to catch a glimpse of Asriel in the corner of her eyes. He paced the booth and danced almost aggressively, as if he was attempting to wrestle with the music. It was clear to anyone nearby that he had some frustrations that had been aching to break out. Not shortly afterwards, he exited towards the main dance floor as he weaved through the crowds of dancers, almost as if he was attempting to claim as much of the floor as he could. As the music sped up, the faster he paced, to the point where he was purposely bumping past people and sharply pushing his shoulders into anyone in his way, until eventually he knocked them to the ground without any regard to anyone's safety. It was painfully obvious what he wanted to do at that moment – he was looking for a fight. Alphys watched him from the high railings, and the wildly flashing LED lights from the ceilings couldn't hide the haunting nerves plastered over her expression.

Frisk was tempted to join her as a sudden burst of paranoia begged for attention from the depths of her gut, but Mettaton pulled her aside to point up towards the DJ bent over his turntables on a platform above the crowd. Mettaton leant close to Frisk's ear as he shouted over the music,

"Y'see that kid with the blue-dyed hair? That's my cousin up there. Blooky… ah, I mean, Napstablook is a genius on those turntables. Just listen to that music, darling! There's a reason he headlines every event here! We used to be in a band together with our dear friend Shyren as our lead singer, but she quit to pursue a career in journalism just like me. I was hoping she would show up tonight… I wonder if she's around…"

Frisk was suddenly thrown by the incredible resemblence between them. As the glaring lights raced over his figure, Napstablook's indigo-dyed hair hid beneath his large headphones which had almost covered the entirety of his baby face. The look of complete and total concentration consumed his expression as his sparkling ocean eyes raced over his turntables, whilst his fingerless gloves whizzed over the dials and scratched over the vinyls spinning beneath his palms. He looked just as slender as his cousin, but Frisk couldn't be sure as his torso was buried beneath a stylishly large ocean-coloured jacket. Whilst their trendy attire bared a striking resemblance, his withdrawn presence was the polar opposite of Mettaton's extroverted energy, which drew crowds of dancers to him as if he had his own gravitational pull.

But as Napstablook had captured her intensely intoxicated attention, Frisk had tragically overlooked the dramatic scene below. Alphys suddenly called out in horror as Asriel had aggravated a small group of men who refused to be rudely pushed around by him, and had stepped up to object to his behaviour. Asriel, however, was too consumed by the cocaine running through his hot blood to calm his aggression, and shoved his face close to the nearest man who dared to speak against him. The fast pace of the music seemed to pump the adrenaline even further as Asriel's shoulders quickly rose and fell with each heavy breath, and his angered gaze glared straight into the eyes of his opponent without an ounce of fear within him. Dominated entirely by his arrogance, he wasted no time in aggressively insulting the men, and somehow his voice seemed to cut through the music loud enough for everyone to hear,

"Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? You don't get to tell me to calm down, motherfucker! You don't know the shit I have to go through every goddamn day of my life! You don't know who I am and the kind of work I do! Let me tell you, pal, I put assholes like you in the ground! You hear me?! I got a body bag in the trunk of my car and an empty grave in the desert with your name on it!" Asriel's inched closer to the man until his flaring nose was barely a breadth away, and spat his last warning, "So I suggest you back the fuck off… before I break the disco ball with your face!"

Before Alphys could run to Frisk for help, the man suddenly jerked his hands to Asriel's shoulders and shoved him away with all his strength. Asriel stumbled backwards, then quickly found his footing before he ripped the pistol from the holster beneath his plaid shirt. The moment the blinding gleam of his handgun drew the unwarranted attention of the crowd around him, the dancers screamed and dispersed before he aimed the muzzle towards the ceiling, and recklessly pulled the trigger.

Bullets suddenly resounded over the music as they shot through a stream of red neon lights above their heads, and the group of men dropped down to the ground in terror as the electric sparks flurried like snow above them. Napstablook scratched the vinyl so hard in shock that the music was stuck on an endless loop. He desperately glanced over to Mettaton before alerting the security. In the midst of the madness, Mettaton waved his arms in protest as he confirmed Asriel's association with him, and turned desperately to Frisk for help.

Impressively, she was already on top of it.

Frisk had jumped down from the table top, weaved past the crowds of dancers fleeing towards the exits, and slid down the bars of the staircases towards the main dance floor which had began to light up with sparks of fallen electric around the men and Asriel. It was almost as if they stood in the centre of a ring of fire. The men trembled in fear as they fell to their knees with their hands thrown up to the air in surrender, but Asriel was far from merciful. His gun barrel leant against the forehead of the nearest guy to him, and Asriel growled as he clicked the safety off the side of his pistol.

"I hope you regret that you crossed me from the afterlife, pal, but not until I turn your head into a _donut_ …"

The man ducked his head and whimpered, but before Asriel could go for the trigger, Frisk intervened just in time to approach him from behind, and suddenly gripped her hands over his. As she pushed the gun barrel towards the ground, her nails dug sharply into his wrist, and Asriel shouted in pain as his hands quickly released the pistol and dropped it to the floor. Finally, the music had stopped, and the distant screams of dancers were heard amongst the broken carnage of the flickering lights above their heads. And with a calm and collected tone, Frisk gave a firm order without releasing her grip on his wrists,

"We have to go now, Asriel. Pick up your gun, put it back in your holster, and let's get out of here."

He growled with anger, but despite his aggravation, he took a moment to breathe deeply and cleared his mind. The adrenaline pumping through his veins had finally swayed, and as he swiped the gun from the ground and tucked it away once again, he followed Frisk's exact orders and begrudgingly walked off the dance floor. With Alphys and Mettaton shortly in tow, the sound of police sirens echoed quietly in the distance, and prompted the group to run.

…

…

Mettaton allowed them all to crash in his penthouse and hide out there for the night. Whilst Alphys occupied the spare bedroom suite to conduct their financial business, Asriel collapsed in an unconscious heap on the lengthy sofa beside Frisk who volunteered to keep an eye on him that night. Sleep hardly came to her as the effects of the pill she took kept her heart furiously pumping in her chest. Her eyes blurred over the expansive room, and subconsciously stared towards the large window panes that overlooked the entire city below. With the room lights off, the city glow burned beneath her feet as if the streets had been caught on fire.

Time blended into an inconsistent mould, and Frisk stirred on the edge of consciousness as her body felt numbed to every sense except the loud ringing in her ears. It wasn't until she heard a metallic click beside her right ear that her eyes fluttered open to find her semi-automatic pistol removed from her holster, and suddenly in the unstable hands of Asriel. He aimed the gun barrel towards her temple with his fingers hovering over the trigger guard. The silence that had drawn on was agonising, and as Frisk swallowed, it was as if gulping equated to the sound of thunder.

Then Asriel snarled as he plainly stated,

"You bruised my wrists last night."

"You were about to put a bullet in the head of an innocent stranger." Frisk replied candidly as she held her hands in the air, and squared her unfazed gaze to his as she kept her voice quiet, yet sharp, "What the hell were you thinking, huh? Did you not hear what Chara said to you before we left? 'Disrespect me once more and you will regret it!' These are her words, not mine. Oh, and by the way, have you forgotten who your girlfriend is exactly? Jesus, do you have _any_ idea what kind of danger you'll be in if she ever finds out about what you did?"

Asriel pushed the muzzle of the gun hard against her skull, and seethed,

"Chara is not going to find out what happened last night. Do you understand? This stays between us, and no one outside of this penthouse is ever going to know about what I did. However… if anyone even _thinks_ about talking… then I swear, I am coming for you. I promise you, I'll be right behind you with my gun pressed against your spine, so you'd better watch your fucking back from now on!"

He flicked the safety off and pressed harder against her temple. But as he did, Frisk noticed something was off. Asriel's anger wasn't nearly to the point it had been at the club that night, and his voice had even wavered near the end. She could feel how much the steel had trembled against her skin, almost as if he had difficulty holding it as straight as he could. It only took a few seconds for Frisk to finally realise exactly what had made him so hesitant, and in response, she nonchalantly turned to him without fear. Asriel wavered once again, and desperately pointed the gun between her eyes, but Frisk wasn't fazed in the slightest.

Instead, she calmly pushed aside messy strands of auburn hair behind her ears, and sternly replied,

"You won't kill me, will you? Look at yourself. Your hands are shaking so much that you can barely hold on to the trigger. You don't want to kill me."

"Shut the hell up!" Asriel snapped through his gritted teeth, "Who the hell are you to tell me what I won't do!"

"I'm the twin sister of the woman you love. That's exactly who I am." Frisk stated pragmatically, and Asriel froze. She hit the nail on the head as the colour suddenly drained from his face. On this cue, Frisk gently pushed the gun away, and Asriel made no effort to resist. The gun felt feather-light as it slowly drifted to the side. And the apparent hurt glazed in his eyes for a moment as he spoke without thinking,

"You… you look just like her…"

Frisk's elongated fingers travelled away from the gun, and stroked towards his hand wrapped around the handle. When she tucked her fingertips into his palm, she gently comforted him.

"I'm not Chara. And neither are you. You don't have to prove how tough you are to anyone, especially not to her. Chara's… _completely_ unhinged. You'd have to lose your mind for a chance to compete with her. It's just not worth it, Asriel. So knock it off, alright? You don't have to prove anything to anyone. Not when I'm around."

Asriel slowly backed down and jerked his hand away from hers. He looked hurt as he shuffled away in a sulk, and with a patient sigh, Frisk took back her gun and returned it to her holster, before she questioned him further,

"I don't understand either of you. You're supposed to be in a relationship, right? You certainly don't act like any couple I've ever seen. I don't get it." Asriel pouted in annoyance as he refused to listen to any of this, but as his eyes winced in pain, there was a small part of him that knew Frisk was right. Despite wanting to shut out everything she said, Asriel remained motionless in his anger, and listened, "Look… Chara is my twin sister, but even so, I… I don't like admitting this… but she's just not a good person, Asriel. I've seen how she treats you, and it's heart-breaking. I mean, look at what it's done to you! Look at how unhappy you are! Why do you put yourself through all of this? Why are you with someone who doesn't respect you?"

"You don't… you don't understand!" Asriel protested as he threw himself from the sofa, and clenched his hands into fists as he internally battled with himself. Then his voice grew hoarse, immersed in pain and affection as if he spoke with his heart on his tongue, "Chara… is like no other person I've ever known. I loved her the moment I saw her. She has this… incredible authoritative presence, y'know? It's like no one could touch her, because she wouldn't allow anyone to. So, of course, it didn't seem real when she opened up to me for the first time. And, oh man, when we started becoming intimate… I didn't think two people could share a connection that _powerful_ before I knew her. When I'm with her like that, I… I can't put it into words. It's like the most beautiful and exciting feeling I've ever experienced. No amount of drugs in my system could replicate that. Ever."

"Oh Asriel, you need to stop putting Chara so high on a pedestal. She's not some celestial superhuman, do you realise that? She's… well, she's just… a drug-dealing mafia boss with a god complex." Frisk still needed time to adjust to this fact as her mind was spinning from saying it aloud, and desperately pleaded, "Don't you see how many people she's stepped over to get what she wants? Like… your father?"

Frisk had been dying to know about Mayor Asgore through the words of his son, and she was surprised when Asriel almost spat in anger,

"Please! Chara did us all a favour by taking over my father's reign. He was too naïve with barely any ambition. He was a complete disgrace to the mafia! Chara knew this even as his apprentice, so she challenged him for the kingpin title. Once Chara became a threat, my father was determined to silence anyone who opposed him. And since I was one of the protestors, in his eyes… I was his enemy." Asriel's gaze wandered to the city lights below the window panes, and his vacant eyes stared into the distance as he continued with barely any emotion left within him, "My father tried to kill me, Frisk. He hired hitmen to put me in the ground… just because I fell in love with a woman he hated. So do you understand why I stay with her? I love her, and I owe my life to Chara. If she hadn't intervened, I would be buried somewhere in the desert by now. She… she's all I have left."

Frisk was consumed with empathy. Speechless and heartbroken, she pulled herself from the sofa and lingered beside him with her hands self-consciously covered over her arms. They watched over the city together as quiet observers, and the air grew cold. The city was cruel, the night began to break into dusk, and Frisk gently laid a supportive hand over his shoulder. Quietly, her saddened eyes glanced towards the sombre man by her side, and softly told him,

"I hope you take care of yourself, Asriel. I'm not going to interfere with your life, but even so… I wish things had been different for you."

In his melancholy, he watched the fiery clouds roll on by, and absently replied,

"So do I."

…

…

Alphys finished filing the finances and collecting their debts as Mettaton escorted the crew towards the lobby of his building. And whilst she was held up by the reception regarding legal documentation on their stay, Asriel promptly left through the exit to smoke outside. Frisk was uneasy about leaving him alone at that time, and left Alphys to deal with the paperwork whilst she pushed through the double doors in search of the dirty-blonde long-haired man. He lingered nearby as he fished out his lighter from his pockets with a cigarette hung between his lips, and Frisk withheld a small laugh as she commented,

"You really can't go one day without sparking one up, can you?" Frisk smirked as she took one from his tobacco carton without asking, and Asriel quietly laughed as his big grin caught the cigarette between his teeth.

"I've been smoking since I was a pre-teen, Frisk. One more isn't going to kill me."

Her eyebrows arched as she was tempted to disagree, but chose to back down as she pursed her lips around the filter and let him set fire to the end with his lighter.

Suddenly, as Asriel brought the lighter back to him, the hairs on the back of Frisk's neck stood on end. Whilst she lived on the streets, she developed an ability to sense when something was wrong, or when danger was nearby. Her breath felt cold as it left her throat, her arms stiffened on edge, and her eyes darted up and down the desolated street. The dawn was slowly breaking, the sky was painted red like blood, and the streetlamps were flickering in warning. Frisk read all the signs. She knew there was trouble – _but where?_

It wasn't until she could make out an outdated Volkswagen Polo with a sinister black paintjob parked on the far end of the road, barely covered by the alley it had attempted to hide in. Already, it looked incredibly suspicious. As Frisk squinted her eyes, she could make out a burly man sitting in the driver's seat, his hands clamped over the wheel, with a large crimson tattoo of a trident inked on the side of his neck. And the moment Frisk locked eyes with him, the headlights flashed to life and his engine roared like a threat. Three other men quickly made themselves known in the passenger seats, and the entire group glared at her aggressively. Suddenly, Frisk stared in horror as she finally spied that each man held full auto AK-47 machine guns, and one had allowed her to see how he equipped a fresh round into the magazine. And without a moment to spare, Frisk spun on her heels as fast as she could as the car tyres ripped against the dirt and quickly shot out of the alley towards them.

The moment Asriel flicked the zip of his lighter as he brought the flame to his cigarette, Frisk tackled him to the ground and screamed,

 _"Get down!"_

All of a sudden, Asriel was thrown to the concrete as the air was suddenly filled with loud gunshots and bullets, and the screech of the tyres blended in with the chaos as the men shouted unintelligible insults and threats from the car windows. Asriel ducked behind a parked car on the side of the road, and grabbed Frisk's wrist to pull her from the ground before the line of fire could catch up to her. Bullet holes appeared from the dust and ricocheted against the side of the building, and glass shattered from parked cars and streetlamps beside them.

Once Asriel predicted a pause between each fired bullet, he took this as an advantage and snatched the handgun from his holster, then he spun to his knees to aim it over the hood of a parked car. Once he fired around three shots, he collapsed in defeat behind the safety of the car as the men once again resumed. He cried out in frustration as he slammed his fist against the concrete,

"Shit… they got the drop on us… _we're fucking screwed_ …"

Frisk's heart was racing to near impossible speeds as she dared to reach for her handgun, and peered through the broken rear window of the car to watch the men suddenly speed away just as quickly as it arrived. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she dropped her gun to the ground, and she collapsed against the car that had saved their life with a heavy sigh of relief. Throughout her life, Frisk had experienced many brushes with death, but even so, each encounter was just as terrifying as the last. With a swipe of her hand, she rubbed away the sweat from her forehead and turned to Asriel once the echo of the bullets dissolved into the dusty air.

"Th-they've gone, Asriel… they've gone… oh _fuck_ , that was so scary…"

"Y… yeah. Oh man, I thought we were going to… to..." Asriel didn't dare to finish that sentence as he rubbed his face in his hands to centre his nerves. Then, he quickly checked over his torso for any places he could've been hit. Thankfully, neither of them were hurt, and Asriel exhaled slowly in immeasurable relief, "So then, I guess… that drive-by shooting must have been a warning… since they haven't finished the job. We're still… alive… but they could've killed us if they wanted to…"

"So… does that mean someone put a hit out on us?" Frisk asked in disbelief, but Asriel shook his head as he clasped his hand over his chest. He could feel his heart crashing against the palm of his hand as he pressed his lips into a tight thin line, and his voice was devoured in anger as he finally informed her,

"No, Frisk, not on us. On me. Someone put a hit out on me a very long time ago. Don't you remember what I told you earlier?" He asked, and watched Frisk's eyes widen and her lips part in shock as she finally pieced everything together. Then he returned his handgun to his holster as he snarled between the grit of his teeth, "I saw it. Those men… they had trident tattoos on their bodies. And there's only one group of men I know that have gang tags like that… they're loyal gang members of my father… who _still_ wants me dead. After all this time… I guess nothing has really changed…"

Frisk was stunned into silence. She couldn't wrap her head around a family feud running so deep into dangerous territory. However, she couldn't quite figure it out, but something in the back of her mind told her something wasn't right about this entire thing. Maybe it was a detail she overlooked, or something significant that she couldn't quite fit together, but something in her gut told her that there's something missing. She just couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

But before Frisk could even begin to question Asriel any further on this, the two were suddenly interrupted by Alphys who had finally shot out of the building and ran over to them with a look of pure terrified horror stricken over her tear-streaked features. Asriel assured her of the situation as Frisk remained silent, awash with unease and uncertainty.

And as her gaze followed the trail of bullet holes etched into the walls and the pavements, she began to think… _is this really just a gang war between family? Or… is it something even bigger?_

…

…

Meanwhile, the man behind the wheel of the drive-by shooting rolled up to an isolated back alley far away from the scene that had just taken place. He reached for a worn-out rag in the glove compartment, applied water from a bottle on to the material, and started to vicariously rub his neck with it. Slowly, the alleged trident tattoo began to fade away… and revealed to be a _fake_.

Whilst he took care of this, the man in the passenger seat pulled out his brick phone from his jeans pocket, and dialled the only number in his contacts. It didn't take long at all for the receiver to pick up, and her voice was as breathy as it had always been when she spoke,

"…is it done?"

 _Chara._

"Yeah, it's done. We didn't kill him, but we scared him good and proper. Just like you asked."

"And did you make sure that Asriel saw the tattoo I told you to wear?"

"Oh don't worry, he saw it. We drew it big enough to scare the livin' shit out of him, I'll tell you that right now!" The man laughed loudly through his rotten teeth, before his curiosity prompted him to ask, "Hey boss, I've been wonderin' somethin'… why did you ask us to wear these stupid-lookin' tattoos anyway? What's so important about them?"

"That's none of your concern!" She snapped back, and sighed before she let her impatience get the better of her. With a slow exhale, she remained as professional as possible as she continued, "Anyway, you've done your job, so this concludes our business together. Now make sure you get out of this city and don't come back. I'll make sure Burgerpants meets you on the city outskirts with your reward. It should be enough for any fugitive to live comfortably for the rest of their days. I hope we never cross paths again."

The moment Chara hung up her phone, she sat back against her office desk, knocked her elbow against a carved wooden sculpture of a flower, and peered through the blinds of her windows at the blood-soaked dawn overhead. The sun barely peeked through the curtains, and coated Chara in near darkness. Her figure was swallowed in the shadows, and only a small strip of sunlight highlighted over her scarlet eyes, burning furiously with no emotion left within her.

Because the truth was… _she was behind it all_.

Chara had ordered a group of fugitives to attack Asriel under the guise of Asgore's gang members. There was no hit ever made. Asgore never had any intention of killing his son, it was all just a conspiracy… but Chara couldn't ever let Asriel find that out.

In order to hold control over the two Dreemur men, Chara counted on their feud to drive them apart, so that they would be easier to restrain. Chara knew their weaknesses very well, and used them against each other to take full advantage of their strengths for her own personal gain. Chara knew that Asriel had fallen in love with her, and ever since then, she constructed a plan. Chara made Asriel believe that she saved his life from his father, when there was no real threat in the first place. She drove Asriel farther apart from Asgore, and with his family torn apart, his defence was weakened to the point of surrendering to Chara's demands. As long as Asriel believed that his father wanted him dead, the wedge that Chara drove between them would never disappear.

And so she kept them both on a short leash, simply because they were useful. Ultimately, Chara didn't care about either of them. Especially Asriel. She abandoned the ability to feel merciful a long time ago.

And as she sat in the quiet of her office, swallowed by insanity, her demented laughter echoed down the halls of the Underground as her own genius forced her into a slow descent… towards complete and total madness.

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Six End. Chapter Seven soon…_

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading this latest chapter! I really hope you enjoyed it, and I really hope it's not too long! A lot has happened in this update, so I'd love to hear your opinion on it all. Every review is kindly appreciated! Let me know what you thought! I hope you have a good day, and I'll see you all very soon~!**


	7. Death Stalks The Singers

Chapter Seven :: _Death Stalks the Singers_

…

There was a lounge club downtown hidden in the back streets of the city, and it sprung to life only when the sun hid beneath the horizon line. The metropolis sprouted the title of the club in glaring neon lights, and read its name – 'the Ruins'.

The interior of this club was decorated with violet drapes hung off the walls, and littered with moody lamps that hung low from the ceiling. It was a cool environment, generally packed with chilled out visitors at their oval tables beneath the candlelit beacons. And each person came with two objectives in mind – to drink, and to listen to jazz.

The Ruins was most notorious for its music entertainment, as they knew exactly who to hire each night. The owners knew that the city bred under-privileged musicians with baggage on their backs, and they understood that these musicians needed to seek solace through the art form of jazz. The sorrows of these musicians fuelled the need to escape from reality into an ethereal realm of music, as it was the only vice they could depend on. And the Ruins was determined to showcase the tragic tales of every jazz musician in the city as a means of support. It was a haven of creativity for lost souls, and every week they brought back one in particular with all the troubles in the world weighing down on his shoulders…

 _Sans_.

He couldn't place the moment he decided to play the trombone, and he couldn't recall the exact motive that made him pursue this hobby further, but he felt something alive in his fingers every time he played his instrument. The sounds he created were his to control and shape to his desire… simply put, the feeling was beyond liberating, which is exactly what he needed in his shackled life. So without reason, he continued to play. And when he auditioned on a whim for a part at the club, many jazz bands recognised his talent almost immediately. His style of music was totally raw and undefined, which had perfectly captured the untamed heart of jazz music. He was the most sought after trombone player in the club, but with his hectic lifestyle, Sans was too detached from the competitive nature of the industry, and so he played only on his own terms.

However, he soon came to find that the shady nature of his job would eventually intercept with his night-time hobby…

On one ordinary night, he noticed the club had hired a new musician. A lounge singer. She didn't capture his attention all that much until she stepped beneath the glaring crimson spotlight. Sans pulled up a chair beside her and surveyed the mysterious woman the moment she took centre stage.

She was tall, as most lounge singers are, her lilac dress was tightly-fitted around her curvy torso, and it split over the side of her thigh to reveal her shapely leg. The dress wrapped around her chest and below her shoulder-blades, which had accentuated her lengthy arms and the prominent creases of her strong muscles. Lilac gloves stretched from her fingertips to the tip of her elbows, which allowed her slender fingers to protrude over the microphone as she gently caressed it. And as her blonde hair had been pinned up from the back by a small bundle of snow-white orchids, the thick bangs fell in front of her ears, coursed around the long frame of her face, and rested over her broad shoulders.

But even though she appeared like any other traditional lounge singer, her demeanour emanated something more meaningful – the true strength of her character.

When she sang, her mouth trembled like a cry. She grasped the microphone during the high notes as if she bared her soul to the audience, and she barely opened her eyes to see them. This woman was immersed entirely in the music, and the crowd around her was immersed in her. She broke free of the sultry singer trope and perfectly portrayed the image of a tenacious woman with her heart and soul in the incredible strength of her voice. And along with Sans' weeping trombone, the pair created an emotional piece that brought silence to the room. It wasn't until the song had finally come to an end that either of them realised how quiet the entire club had become, before an eruption of loud applause broke through the silence.

But Sans didn't stick around for any chance of an encore. The woman gave one quick glance over her shoulder before she noticed how suddenly Sans had tucked his instrument beneath his arm and exited the stage. With a gasp, she picked up the side of her dress and hurriedly shuffled out of the spotlight to follow him, leaving the rest of the band members alone to take all the glory.

It wasn't long until she had enough of awkwardly shuffling along the floorboards, and angrily kicked off her shoes after grumbling,

"Damn these heels! It's impossible to run in these things!"

Eventually, after she discarded her shoes and carried them tightly in her grasp, the woman finally caught up with Sans in the backstage tunnel leading towards the streets. Then, before Sans could reach the heavy fire-door that lead towards the exit, she called out to him between deep breaths,

"Wait… stop! I need… to talk to you!" Sans froze with his hand hovered over the fire-door handle, and his withered eyes widened in surprise as the woman collapsed against the narrow wall beside them. She took a moment to catch her breath, and when she finally regulated her breathing, she exhaled in relief and smiled sweetly, "Thank you for stopping! For a second there I thought I had missed my chance to talk to you! Um… you played really well back there."

Sans flashed a crooked grin, amused by how quickly flustered she had become, and quietly laughed.

"You too, lady. That voice of yours is honestly incredible. You got a powerful set of lungs on you, f'sure. I hope we see each other again in the next gig…"

"…actually, um…" She interrupted suddenly, and Sans once again withdrew from the fire-door as he noticed how suddenly her face had flushed into a bright red colour. And he arched an eyebrow when she stuttered a proposal he didn't expect, "I… um, I was hoping that we could… well, I… w-was wondering if you would like to meet up… b-before our next gig…"

"Meet up?" Sans narrowed his eyes as he hesitated to ask, "You mean like a…?"

The woman suddenly waved her hands in protest as her entire form heated up like a crimson furnace, and she was all the more flustered as she vigorously shook her head with a shaky grin,

"Oh! No, no, not like a… a date! I… I am so sorry, I just… oh my, I am not very articulate when my nerves get the better of me." She fidgeted with her gloves over her arms as she took a moment once again to regulate her breathing, and exhaled with a hopeless grin, "I apologise for the misunderstanding…"

"It's alright. Y'know, I'm actually kinda relieved…" Before the image of Frisk could pierce through his thoughts, Sans' eyes quickly widened in shock as he suddenly felt his heart pound against his chest. _Why did_ _ **she**_ _come up just now?_ Determined to cover up these unwanted feelings, the woman stared back in confusion as Sans bared his teeth into his widest smile yet, and prepared his greatest line to date, "Uh… it's not you… y'see, I've recently come out of a relationship with a telephone operator. But we had to stop dating because… well, we felt _disconnected_."

With a confident wink, Sans watched as the woman almost doubled over to stop her uncontrollable laughter and had to lean against the brick wall to keep herself upright. Despite the tears in her eyes, she retorted,

"You mean… you had too many _hang-ups_?"

Sans suddenly snorted. And at that moment, the pair finally gave in and their laughter loudly echoed through the barely-lit tunnel and ricocheted back like a drum. The woman fell over and leant her shoulder against the brick wall as she desperately held her sides, whilst Sans slapped his forehead with the palm of his hands as his vision blurred from his tears. Eventually, when his laughter faded, his ribs ached from the hysterics, and he turned to the collapsed woman leant beside him and flashed a crooked smirk.

"You're a riot, lady. If your sense of humour is just as bad as mine, then I'd actually be tempted to ask you out..."

"I'm flattered, but that is not why I need to speak to you." Slowly, she pushed herself from the wall as all traces of humour suddenly washed away from her expression. Immediately, Sans was on edge the moment she cleared her throat, and the mysterious woman spoke to him in her powerful voice that had captured their audience, "Listen… I am not going to beat around the bush any longer, Sans. I know who you are. And I know what you do."

All of a sudden, Sans' grin fell away in an instant, and his heart dropped down to the deepest pits of his stomach.

"…you do?" Sans asked as he narrowed his suspicious eyes towards her. She was suddenly so serious, all-business, and far from the flustered comedian that stood before him a few moments ago. Sans honestly had no idea what to make of this woman. And so, without causing an alarm, he quickly looked around for any other signs of life and finally opened the fire-door behind him. Then, Sans quickly glanced back to her without any hint of his trademark smile in sight, and ordered, "Not here. Outside."

The woman obediently followed him towards the back alley where the rain was heavily pouring down in buckets. Without a word, Sans lead her beneath a nearby canopy and hid inside the sheltered area whilst he pulled out a cigarette from his packet. And as he lit it up with his infamous skull-themed lighter, he offered one to the woman who stood patiently on the side-lines. Politely, she shook her head,

"No, thank you. I don't smoke."

"Wise woman." Sans smirked, and slowly took a drag of his own. The thick tension was emphasised by the strain in their shared silence, interrupted only by the fat raindrops rebounding off the pavement in waves. The woman once again fidgeted with her gloves as she waited in earnest by his side, until without warning, Sans suddenly turned his hollow glare towards her and spoke as if deadly poison dripped from his words, "Alright. You got my attention. Why don't you start talking before one of us drops dead?"

The woman perspired as his sudden unstable wheezy laughter put her insanely on edge. Determined to seem unfazed by his intimidating gaze, the woman stared ahead at the rain as she spoke,

"I've seen you several times outside the club that _she_ owns. The Underground, correct? I am no fool, Sans. I know all about what goes on in there. In fact, I have seen it first-hand. That club is a cesspool of criminal activity, harbouring wayward souls into its darkness before it is too late. And I have seen you there on more than one occasion. Sans, you cannot lie to me now. I have seen you together with her… and with Asriel."

"I really don't know what you're talking about, lady." Sans snapped back with a frown as he took another long drag of his cigarette, but the woman wasn't convinced in the slightest. She glanced at him with a scowl as she replied,

"There is no need to feign innocence with me, Sans. I have no intention on telling anyone about you. I have no need to." She told him plainly, but he arched a sceptical eyebrow until she sighed in reply, "Look, you must admit that your past is not exactly a secret from the public, is it? And I assure you, I've done my fair share of research about you. It wasn't very difficult, seeing as the local newspapers favoured your hero cop stories for quite some time. And I myself have seen your name make headlines several times before you left the force. Your work was truly exceptional, Sans. To be honest… I feel so honoured to have performed with you tonight…"

"That's a little twisted considering that nature of what I do now." Sans commented with an impish crooked grin, and his dark laughter sounded through the rain as he asked with a sarcastic tone, "Are you sure you really know who I am, lady? It sounds like you're purposely glorifying my past to avoid confronting the truth about what I'm doing with my time lately, besides blowing on my horn that is. That's quite a selective bias you have of me, don'tcha think?"

"Oh, I know all about your connections with the mafia. And I am fully aware of the kind of jobs you have done for them. Like I told you, I have done my research… extensively." She stated without an ounce of emotion, and as Sans stared in total confusion, she continued to quietly explain, "Despite everything you have done… I do not condemn your wrongdoings, but I also do not blindly idolise you either. Because, trust me, I understand that there are circumstances you have been put through for the sake of protecting the ones you love."

Sans picked up on what she suddenly implied, and he flinched as she mercilessly continued,

"I know everything… about your brother. Papyrus, right? I understand that he has chosen to follow in your footsteps in the force, and you have thrown yourself into an incredibly compromising and dangerous position to assert his safety…"

"Ah! I thought I recognised your face from somewhere!" Sans suddenly cut her off and interrupted her with a sinister gleam in his hollow gaze. And her eyes widened in shock as Sans held up his pointed finger, dominated the tension with his incredibly intimidating presence, and stated with a menacing grin stretching from ear to ear, "You're Asriel's mother, aren't you? Toriel – our own mayor's ex-wife."

Immediately, she was stunned into silence, and quickly dropped the subject. It was at that moment she realised that the mere mention of his brother was the trigger to his legendary anger. She was treading into absurdly risky territory, and she was too afraid to move as she was suddenly overpowered by his terrifying presence. She wondered if Sans had known her true identity from the very beginning of their conversation. She also wondered if it was Sans' deeply-seated anger that had overthrown his senses to the point of revealing how much he really knew about her. And she was too terrified to ask if he knew anything more personal about her…

After a few quiet moments, Sans broke through the rain and the silence with a low-sounding laugh, as if it bubbled from the depths of his throat. And he closed his eyes as his deadpan voice returned to ask,

"Anyway, let's get to the point already. What are you trying to do here exactly? Why are you telling me all this?"

"Um, well… in short, I need your help." She told him simply, and as she continued, her desperation grew, "Chara has brainwashed my son… Asriel. He no longer answers my calls, he never comes home… he refuses to acknowledge his own father anymore. I… I am at a loss, Sans. I have tried everything but he does not want to listen to reason. I need your help to free my son from Chara. I am… past the point of hope for that woman. She is pure evil. I am sure you know that better than anyone. But my son… he is so young and impressionable. He believes she loves him, but she does not know how to love – only how to manipulate. And she has my Asriel under her complete control. He needs help, Sans. He cannot do it on his own. We need to save him from her… and himself. Please… _help us_ …"

Toriel lifelessly gripped on to his sleeve in despair, and held her hand over her mouth as she tried her best not to give in to the urge to choke. She could feel the tears stinging the edge of her eyes – she knew she was almost at her limit. Without any other options or anyone else to turn to, she helplessly held on to the one man she pinned the remainder of her hope to. But he was frozen in his scepticism as he slowly sighed, and ignored the burning ashes that fell away from the end of his cigarette as he flicked it away from his mouth.

"I don't think you've fully grasped how dangerous this entire situation is, Tori. In layman's terms – once you enter this world, there's no going back from it. And how can I be sure that you'll be able to handle the heat when you're thrown into a situation where your own _life_ is on the line?"

"I've introduced myself to the famous 'skeleton', haven't I? Shouldn't that already prove that I'm willing to risk everything I have to save my son?"

Sans smirked as he finally threw away the pathetic remainder of his cigarette, and laughed sadistically,

"You're not wrong, lady. You signed your death warrant the moment you stepped outside that door. You know all about my reputation, right? Then you knowingly gambled your own life by entering a secluded area alone with me. And seeing as you're still standing here _alive_ … well, you must have caught me in a generous mood."

Nervously, she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes flickered to the steaming cigarette burning out in the puddles across the pavement, and watched it sizzle away into dust. As she swallowed her anxiety and cleared her throat, she gathered as much confidence as she could and replied,

"Admittedly, I have run out of options. But I assure you, I can be useful to you and your operation. I believe we will make a formidable team, if you agree to help that is." Toriel pulled out a small strip of paper and a pen from the pocket in her dress, and continued as she scribbled, "I am the ex of a very important political figure, but that does not mean I played the part of a trophy wife whilst we were together. After all, how do you think Asgore's campaign gained publicity in the first place? I am a woman of extreme influence, Sans. And it may interest you to know that my speciality is stealth. I have many connections, all of which are conducted from the shadows. My sources are hidden so well that not a soul alive has been able to trace my whereabouts. As far as the public are aware, my existence has been wiped off the Earth on the day of my divorce. Not even Chara herself has managed to find me."

As Toriel confirmed this, she watched Sans' eyebrows suddenly rise in awe. _Impressive._ And she captured his interest further as she handed over the strip of paper for him to take. Hesitantly, he read the line of numbers written neatly across the paper, and narrowed his quizzical gaze at her as she adjusted the orchids residing in her golden hair. And she remained as professional as possible when she stated,

"I have a number of hideouts that I am willing to share with you… that is if you follow through with our deal. Do not worry about any payments – your co-operation is enough. Each location is secured by the government under the witness protection program… they are not anywhere you would be able to find on a map, at least. Sounds ideal, no?"

Sans took a moment to let the situation sink in, but he found himself blankly staring back at her. As his mind raced, he held up the strip of paper between his two fingers and questioned her one final time,

"That's quite an offer, Tori. Are you sure you want to trust this kind of information with someone like me? I'm not sure you've conducted enough _research_ about my life to be able to predict what kind of partner I'll be if I agree to any of this."

"I trust you, Sans. After all, nothing strengthens the bind of a partnership more than the shared hatred for a common enemy." She stifled a small sardonic laugh before she dropped her shoes to the ground, tucked her feet into them, and suddenly stepped into the rain. Immediately, the shower drenched her form, but she didn't seem to mind it at all. Especially as she glanced back at the strip of paper in his hands, and called loudly over the pouring rain, "Dial my number when you have made a decision. In all honesty, Sans, I really do hope you agree to this partnership… for all of our sakes."

Before he had a chance to reply, Toriel turned away and shortly disappeared through the misty curtain of rain, until the sound of her heels clicking through the puddles faded into the sombre night.

Left alone in his thoughts, Sans switched his gaze to the paper laying idly between his fingers. The numbers were displayed elegantly through the centre, smudged slightly from the rain, and blurred together the longer he stared at them. It taunted him mercilessly as he was torn by this decision – _should I team up with the mother of my business associate… or continue the mission alone?_

Silently, he folded the paper in half, and secured it in his pocket for future use.

…

…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, the rain came down hard like bullets against a block of run-down apartments situated beside the train tracks running throughout the metropolis. The moment a carriage noisily passed by, a girl returned home to her fourth floor apartment overlooking the city streets and the parked cars below. Her name – Shyren.

Recently graduated from college with a degree in journalism, she immediately took to the streets by renting a low budget apartment on the outskirts of the city and began her independent reports online. She mostly focused on small-time criminal activities that she witnessed day by day, slowly and carefully collecting all the information she could to expose the underbelly of the city for what it really was. She barely spoke a word to anyone, she tucked away her old passion for music to fight for justice, as she had finally found her voice in her writing.

That night, after months of tedious research, she had finally completed notes from eye witness accounts of a certain criminal offence that had recently taken place. She hid them in her lime-green backpack, which she had always slung loosely over her shoulder, and she tightly gripped the strap as she climbed the stairs of the apartment building with a fatigued sigh.

"Another exhausting day of reporting, and I've only just begun to make a dent in my research." She quietly spoke to herself as she mentally went over all her recent discoveries, and she shook her head in frustration, "I don't understand… what am I doing wrong? How are all my leads drying up? I thought I was finally getting somewhere with everything I've found… what on earth is going on in this city?"

Swiping the sweat from her brow, she eventually approached her front door and flicked the keys inside. For a moment, she was thrown by how strangely loose it felt compared to how it usually was… but she thought nothing of it as she nonchalantly stepped inside.

Unfortunately for her, this was an oversight that she would quickly come to regret…

The apartment was incredibly small, as the kitchen had attached to the lounge whilst the bathroom and the bedroom was situated to the left-hand side into another smaller room. The windows were narrow and single-panelled, which accentuated the sound of rain hitting against the panes and chilled the room to almost freezing temperatures. Her newspaper articles and clippings were strewn in piles across the floorboards and table-tops, with notes and posters decorated with highlighters plastered across the walls like the interior of an insane asylum. And yet despite the crazy mess… Shyren immediately noticed something wasn't right.

Hesitantly, she dropped the backpack to the ground and wandered to her biggest pile of newspaper clippings situated ahead on the lounge floor. She narrowed her eyes as she inspected it, and she could have sworn that before she left the apartment that morning, the scissors she used to cut out her clippings were laid on top. But the second she approached the pile, her face whitened in horror as she finally noticed – the scissors were gone.

Suddenly, her breath hitched in her throat as the lamp located inside the kitchen was abruptly turned on, and Shyren trembled as she quickly glanced over her shoulder. And immediately, her eyes widened as she could make out two large silhouettes of muscular men lingering inside the kitchen area. The urge to scream overwhelmed her, and she gasped as much air in her lungs as she could to prepare herself… but she was quickly interrupted by the sudden chilling feeling of one more presence approaching from behind. Frozen in mortal fear, she dared to slowly turn her head to see who else was there with her, only to be met by the threatening metallic gleam of her stolen scissors in the hands of a woman… with familiar sharpened nails clung against it, like a claw.

The scissors hovered around Shyren's neck, and she whimpered in terror the moment she suddenly caught the reflection of Chara's sinister grin within the knifelike blade.

"…I'm a big fan of your work, Shyren." Chara began with a whisper, and her snakelike fingers slithered around the frame of Shyren's face. Then, Chara forcefully turned her hostage towards her hardened gaze with an intimidating smile, and laughed in spite, "Congratulations on your graduation, Shyren! I have to say, your cutting-edge reporting is getting better and better every time I read your news articles online. I commend your courage for getting so involved in my business… there's not many people out there that are willing to go as far as you have. I mean, look at all this research you've done! You almost managed to gather enough evidence to blow open my entire operation! I'm impressed, Shyren. Not even the FBI have managed a breakthrough like this..."

"I… I don't know what you're talking about…" Shyren pleaded desperately as she flickered her horrified gaze between the crazed woman and the two burly men hanging in the shadows of the background. But as Chara grasped a tighter hold of the scissors, the cold sting of the blade ran a terrifying shudder down her spine. A cascade of pure terror enveloped her entire being, and Chara could feel it coarse through her. Then Chara replied with a cruel smile,

"I've been tracking your website for a while now. You're a promising young reporter, Shyren. I'll admit, I was caught off-guard when I discovered what you had wrote in your latest entry. Would you believe that I was actually a little scared after I read it?" Shyren's eyes widened with petrified confusion, and the curl in Chara's sinister grin deepened as she told her flat-out, "You crossed the line by writing about affairs that have nothing to do with you! Don't you reporters have any manners? Clearly you don't, so that's why I've decided… I will _show_ you what it's like to have someone rudely interfere with your life!"

As Chara suddenly pressed the blade against the sensitive skin on her neck, the suffocating razor felt like a harsh sting of fear piercing through her chest as Shyren desperately cried out,

"W… w-w-wait a second! I d-don't understand! I don't even know wh-who y-you are!"

"Let's keep it that way, shall we?" Chara said as her ruthless smile finally fell away, and her tone grew all the more unnaturally serious as she continued, "It doesn't matter anyway, my identity is not the problem here. What prompted our response was everything you wrote about in your latest report."

"You mean… that night at The Core?" Shyren asked curiously, and her eyes widened all the more when Chara nodded to confirm this. Shyren desperately struggled in her captor's grasp for a moment as her mind clouded with fear and confusion, and she cried in frustration, "This doesn't make any sense! All I did was write down exactly what happened that night – I was hidden in the crowd when I saw our mayor's son there… Asriel, was it? He was arguing with a group of men before he took out a gun and shot up the club. How does that incident have anything to do with you?"

Chara snarled as she pulled Shyren tighter in her grasp, and seethed through her gritted teeth,

"If you want to know so badly, then it may interest you to know that Asriel Dreemur is under my personal protection. And I will not allow a meddlesome reporter destroying his reputation over a childish tantrum he threw in some club! I will deal with him at my leisure, I assure you, so in the meantime… you are going to delete that article and forget you ever heard his name! Do you understand me?"

The threatening tone in Chara's serpent voice had thrown Shyren into a blank state of fear for a second, and she stuttered as she tried her best to make sense of the situation,

"Y-You mean… you want me to delete it… r-right now?" Chara nodded impatiently. And for one maddening moment, Shyren dared to work through her fear to ask, "And wh… what if… what if I don't do what you say?"

As she finished on that note, Chara's men immediately moved away from the kitchen in perfect sync, and stepped further into the shadows as their expressions were suddenly hidden away. All Shyren could see were their fists as they cracked their knuckles in anticipation, and the moment Chara heard Shyren swallow a large gulp in fear, she sadistically smiled and replied,

"…do you really want to find out the answer to that question?"

Shyren shivered as the bottomless fear enveloped her once again. It was a feeling that made her sick, and it took very ounce of willpower to resist to urge to vomit. Reluctantly, she glanced at her interrogators and recognised the thirst of blood and torture in their sadistic smiles, and as she was faced with no other options, Shyren frantically nodded her head as she finally complied.

"O… okay… a-alright, just g-give me a moment to boot up my laptop… okay?"

"Alright, but you had better hurry up. Otherwise my escorts here may have to find a way to… _motivate_ you."

The men chuckled as Chara finally released her, and Shyren stumbled away in fright. For a moment, she had to grasp a tight hold of the wooden chair beneath her writer's desk to steady her balance, but she had no time to breathe as Chara appeared right beside her, closely monitoring her every moment with her piercing scarlet eyes. She watched like a hawk as Shyren dropped down hopelessly on to the chair, and quickly flipped up her laptop lid despite her hands shaking like a leaf in a storm. But before she could reach towards the mouse, Chara suddenly slammed her fist against the desk in an abrupt bout of anger and leant over the trembling girl without hesitation. Shyren squealed as she cowered before her, and through clenched teeth, Chara hissed,

"Don't even think about trying anything funny. Because the moment you do, I will not hesitate to throw you out of this fucking window! Understand?"

Shyren whimpered, and nodded on sheer will to live alone. Then, as she promptly logged on to her website, the article she wrote flashed open like a warning signal, and she hesitated as the cursor hovered over the delete button. Something at the back of her mind screamed at her to stop. Deep down, she knew there was something in her body that halted her movements… but with Chara breathing right down her neck, Shyren found herself trapped. Every single part of her begged her not to, but with no hope left within her, Shyren swallowed her nerves and finally clicked on her mouse. The article slowly faded away, and so did the life in Shyren's broken gaze. The blank template that arose from the ashes of her writing carved a deep hole in her heart, and Shyren felt the sting of tears quietly build in her eyes.

But she found no time to mourn as Chara suddenly slapped her back and praised her,

"Good girl. Thank you for your co-operation. You made a smart decision today. Asriel and I will always be grateful for it."

Shyren felt completely hollow. She was forced to compromise her integrity, which made her feel as if her soul had been sucked away like a vacuum. All her research and findings were building up to something huge, and although she was only just scratching at the surface, there was a crushing weight over her heart as she watched her progress wipe away with no hope of saving it.

But despite the numb emotional state she was reduced to, there was a small spark of fear that ignited deep within her bones. It couldn't be ignored, especially as she saw the sly kink in Chara's terrifying smirk, and the way her vice-like claw clung to Shyren's shoulder like a vulture. The atmosphere grew darker and darker, the rain tapped against the window like alarm bells, and a morbid sense of danger ran like unpleasant shivers down her spine as Shyren dared to speak up,

"Um… s-something doesn't feel right." Shyren whispered as she was almost too afraid to ask, "Why have you told me so much information? Why are you so concerned with Asriel Dreemur? And… wh-why have you shown me who you are? This… this doesn't make any sense… u-unless…"

"Have you figured it out yet?" Chara asked coldly. Then, the sinister undertones of her voice finally came to fruition as she smiled manically with her crimson eyes widening wildly. Shyren was frozen in fear. She felt like she was looking into the blood-soaked eyes of death itself.

And all of a sudden, without warning, Chara grabbed a fistful of Shyren's hair, and she cried out in pain as Chara screamed through her psychotic laughter,

"… _I never planned on leaving you alive!"_

Without a chance to scream, Shyren's musical voice was hopelessly lost amongst the chaos as Chara yanked Shyren's head back, and swiftly swiped the blade on the scissors across the base of her throat. A quiet choke sounded past her purple lips before she passed her last breath, and her bulging eyes stiffened as her life flashed like a film reel before her. And as she felt the blood coating her neck and soaking through the material of her clothes, her final thoughts were the smiling faces of her former band members – Mettaton and Napstablook.

Her broken heart swelled with love before it finally stopped beating.

Shyren lolled lifelessly against the side of the chair, and a terrifying silence followed. Chara nonchalantly wiped away the blood dripping from the scissors, and her stony-eyes were blank with unemotional indifference as she watched the last lingering threads of life detach from Shyren's faded form. After a few moments of silent contemplation on her next plan of action, Chara turned towards her men with a cold-hearted calculating stare,

"Put on your gloves. Remove all the notes from the walls and anywhere else you can find. We're sweeping this entire apartment of anything that remotely looks like evidence against us. It may be small-time criminal offences, and even though Shyren wasn't aware of it all, she was unintentionally building an inventory of our activity. It's a good job we found that article piece on Asriel's little _indiscretion_ when we did, otherwise… well, let's not think about what might have happened, alright? When you're finished, make sure that any traces of your fingerprints are wiped away. Oh, and this laptop is coming with us. I need to make sure that every piece of evidence against Asriel is destroyed. Are we clear on that, boys?"

They nodded on command, and quickly proceeded to tear down the notes from the walls and pick up the clippings from the ground. They filled up several plastic bags within minutes. And whilst they occupied themselves with this task, Chara gripped the laptop and secured it safely away in her bag… but her fingers froze as her interest was suddenly stolen away by a photo hung on the wall above the desk.

The bag slipped through her grasp as Chara finally realised what the image was. Slowly, she reached towards it and ripped the photo away from the wall. Her eyes narrowed in shock, and blinked several times as she desperately tried to convince herself that she was simply hallucinating. But there was no mistaking it – the photo depicted her twin sister, Frisk, with her arms firmly hung around Asriel on the night of the shooting.

The photo trembled in her grasp, but still, she could clearly make them out through the glare of the club lights. It seemed like a still image of a fantasy, where the couple stood in the midst of a sparkling ring of fire, but they were more engrossed in each other to notice anything else around them. The gun in Asriel's hands had been cut out of the image, which made the captured moment look all the more intimate, especially as Frisk had her arms firmly held over his wrists in a passionate-like embrace. Chara's tight grip of the photo tightened, until she crushed the photo in the palm of her trembling hand. And she seethed through her grinding clenched teeth.

Then, her voice abruptly rose from silent whispers, to terrifying screaming heights,

"…no. No, no… _NO!"_

All of a sudden, in an explosive burst of pure anger, Chara grasped a sharp hold of Shyren's head and dragged her across the floorboards. Then, without a second of hesitation, she screamed in fury as she threw Shyren's body with all of her adrenaline-fuelled strength towards the window. The single pane shattered into splinters as Shyren collided against the glass, and she dropped like bricks through the air until a terrifying metallic collision sounded from the distance. When a string of car alarms set off immediately afterwards, it was apparent that Shyren's body had crash-landed on top of a car roof.

The two men looked on in terror as Chara was completely consumed in her psychotic rage. She faced away from them, cemented her death-stare towards the broken window, and her shoulders hastily rose and fell with every heavy breath she took. The pouring rain pounded unbearably like an anthem for the grim reaper, and the shower washed away the lingering drops of blood sprayed on top of the shards of glass.

And the men jumped in fear as Chara swiftly turned towards them, and shouted in fury,

"We don't have time to stand around gawking! Gather the evidence and let's go!"

With a sharp gulp, they promptly grabbed the plastic bags and exited the apartment building without looking back. They were far too terrified of their boss to even try.

Meanwhile, Chara lingered behind to glance one final time at the photo that had triggered her reaction. The photo was wrinkled, but she could still make out the two figures highlighted by Shyren's pen markings that had circled around them. The question mark scribbled above Frisk's head indicated that the small-time reporter must have been recently asking about Frisk's identity, and Chara would later discover that the notes in Shyren's lime-green backpack was further proof of this. With all of her heart, she hoped that this would not lead to complications in the future… and that Frisk's safety was not at risk.

And with a swipe of her hand, Chara picked up the blood-stained scissors, and ran.

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Seven End. Chapter Eight on the way…_

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! I apologise for the delay, I'm still struggling to balance my full-time job and my writing hobby, but I hope this chapter makes up for the wait! Please let me know what you thought of it in a review – tell me your thoughts and feelings, or tell me anything you want! I love reading any kind of feedback! Cheers again, and I'll see you soon~!**


	8. No One Is Safe

Chapter Eight :: _No One Is Safe  
_

…

The next morning, Papyrus and Undyne were called to the scene of the crime to investigate. The rain had subsided, and the clouds had parted for the early sunrise to greet the morbid scene. The skyscrapers were draped in an orange curtain of sunlight, whilst the streets below laid dormant in the despairing shadows. By the time the morning had passed, Shyren's body had been secured safely in a body bag and taken to the coroner, whilst the forensic team took care of the grim scene in the apartment.

Papyrus was left to set up police tape around the street to block off the area, and he scoped warily around the demolished car that had been crushed by Shyren's body. Curious pedestrians walked on by, but no one lingered around for too long. The bloodied wreckage and shards of glass thrown across the pavement had set up too much of a gruesome image. Unfortunately, Papyrus wasn't immune to any of it either. His eyes traced the large dent carved into the car roof where Shyren's body was found, and he winced with discomfort.

"It never gets any easier." Undyne said sympathetically as she laid a supportive hand over his shoulder, "I've been in the force for a long time, but man… it doesn't make a bit of difference. In cases like these, the nausea never seems to fade away."

Papyrus scanned the empty street in solemn silence. He noticed how the rain had captured the scattered blood across the concrete into erratic crimson puddles, which had been washed down the drains in small streams. As the noisy train raced by across the rusted tracks, it shook through Papyrus' solemn thoughts. Then he smiled gratefully towards his boss before he stepped out of her grasp, and peered towards the broken window hovering above.

"That girl… she looked so young. She can't have been any older than twenty, surely." Papyrus muttered as his gaze became vacant, and spoke his thoughts aloud, "But I don't understand any of this. Why did this have to happen? Why her? What could a young girl have done to provoke this kind of violence?"

"That's what we're here to find out, rookie." Undyne nodded with a small smirk, before she suddenly turned to her partner with an expression as hard as stone, "But don't you ever underestimate the corruption in this world, you hear me? This city… it's diseased. And as long as you reside within its rotten borders, everybody is potentially a victim. Even young girls like her."

Papyrus loudly swallowed before turning his troubled gaze to the overcast skies. The sun had highlighted the upper half of the apartment building, almost as if the Earth below was forced to suffer in the bleak shadows. And he approached the car wreckage with the reflection of himself blankly staring back within the splintered windows. The image of his own pale expression was haunting, as if he was looking into the ghost of his former self, which hadn't helped the nausea churning within his stomach at all.

And suddenly in the corner of this reflection, he caught sight of two tiny figures hurriedly drawing near. His frozen state of mind couldn't react fast enough as he witnessed Undyne holding her arms out like a stone wall to prevent them from coming any closer to the scene, and Papyrus could only feel the adrenaline pumping harder in his veins as the two men hysterically put up a fight in return.

"Officer, we've just been informed of the situation! You have to let us through! Our friend lives here…"

"Oh god, it's true! Look up… her window… it's broken through…"

"Shyren! Oh please god, no… no…"

As Papyrus managed to tear out of his mental prison and finally turned over his shoulder, the street seemed to collapse into an eerie silence, and he sharply gasped in shock. His jaw dropped instantly as Papyrus recognised the taller man clutching on to the shorter boy by his side.

 _It's… it's Mettaton… the most famous celebrity in the city._ But he looked far from the glamorous and ego-centric image he portrayed on-screen.

Mettaton wailed dramatically as his infamous feline eyeliner ran down his accentuated features, and his ashy hair had been tousled with neglect. He was a broken shell of his outrageous alter ego, and the sight of him in hysterics had shattered the illusion of an unstoppable media giant in the eyes of the rookie officer. It was a grim reminder that powerful and idolised celebrities, no matter how strong they appear to be, are just as human as anyone else. Papyrus couldn't recognise the boy that Mettaton cried against, but he mentally noted his striking blue-dyed hair and his small frame.

"Blooky, this can't be real… it can't…" Mettaton whimpered through his loud sobs as he leant over the despairing boy's tiny shoulders, "This isn't real. I talked to her only a few days ago, and she sounded just fine! She sounded fine… so she can't have… have… oh, Blooky!"

"My… deepest sympathies to you both." Undyne unsteadily said as she battled through the surprise of their sudden dramatic appearance. Then, she took a moment to clear her throat before she started once again on a more professional and compassionate note, "You are Mettaton and Napstablook, correct? I understand that you are her legal next of kin…"

"That's right. We're not family, but… we're all she had left." Napstablook murmured through the bout of tears streaming over his boyish features, and tenderly held the back of Mettaton's head to cradle him against his shoulder. The celebrity shook fiercely in his grasp, and as he loudly cried into his neck, Undyne knew that he was in no state to address her in any way. Carefully, she escorted the pair to the side and passed Papyrus a side-glance to give him authority over the area. Papyrus nodded slowly as his widened eyes followed the group down the street, until Mettaton's ear-splitting sobs faded away once they were all out of sight. And a heavy atmosphere took its place.

Papyrus sighed in remorse as he adjusted to what he had just witnessed, and his thoughts lingered to the broken celebrity once again. Night after night, Papyrus watched all of his television shows and listened to his radio broadcasts, and there was no doubt in his mind that the man was an idol to the young rookie. But he was far from star-struck. Instead, Papyrus grieved for him. It tore his large heart in half.

Until a sudden troubling thought played upon his mind…

 _That girl… she might have had some powerful connections if she was close friends with Mettaton... the kind of connections that could pull off these kind of heinous crimes and get away with it…_

It was at that moment, a sharp gleam of blinding metallic light suddenly caught his interest from the edge of a nearby manhole cover. The bloodied streams of leftover rain had carried a piece of significant evidence away from the scene, but it had thankfully stuck upon the iron curve before it could fall away into the sewers. Cautiously, Papyrus kept his hawk-like gaze upon it as he stalked towards it with a small plastic bag on-hand. And gently, he scooped it up along with small droplets of rain and blood pooled at the bottom of the bag.

Upon closer inspection, Papyrus recognised the shape of this metallic equipment… as it was revealed to be a small USB memory stick obviously belonging to the victim.

And just as he had made this discovery, two familiar burly-looking men walked on by, posing as innocent pedestrians, whilst texting on their outdated phones to their hot-headed boss about the status of the tragic scene they had started. And they made sure to include Papyrus in their report.

…

…

Later on in the evening, Papyrus had finished up locking away the rest of the files and apparatus that the forensic team had gathered together in the evidence room. The iron gates slammed shut and echoed down the empty dark corridors of the police station, which seemed almost isolated from the rest of the facility. With sad eyes, Papyrus turned his attentive gaze through the chain-link gates, and scrutinised the pitiful lack of evidence surrounding the case on Shyren. It seemed like it was already a lost cause. The forensic team was baffled as they discovered her apartment had been stripped bare of any incriminating details surrounding the murder, other than the broken lock on her door and the window she was thrown through. In the end, this only left more questions than answers.

Papyrus ran through the notes in her case file once more. He quickly learnt of Shyren's budding career in journalism and the website she created to detail her investigations on crime in the city. Immediately, he found that the notes in the case file had contradicted what had been discovered in her apartment. _How can this girl keep up an active blog… when there was no computer found in her home?_

Papyrus pulled out the evidence bag containing Shyren's memory stick from his jacket, and inspected it closely. _And if she never owned a computer… why would she have something like this?_

The evidence room was eerily silent, except for the monotonous buzz from the low-lighted bulbs in the ceiling, and the quiet fan in a nearby computer bundled between stacks of cabinets and shelves. Slowly, an idea crawled into Papyrus' mind, and it cruelly tempted him the more he thought about it. When he peered out the doorway to look out for any signs of life, he concluded that he was completely alone in a bubble that cut away from the rest of society. A small rebellious smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth as Papyrus quietly closed the door and shut off the lights. Immediately, he was enveloped in the glaring blue light from the computer screen on standby, which had only urged him further to sit at the desk and wake up the machine.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he discovered that an officer had carelessly left their account logged into the database, since Papyrus hadn't liked the idea of spending too much time trying to guess the password. And so, he avoided wasting anymore seconds, and promptly dug the memory stick into the USB port. Thankfully, there were no passwords on the memory stick either. Papyrus glowed with joy from how smoothly this private operation was going.

And so as the evening dragged on, Papyrus carefully read through each of the documents on the memory stick and the pictures that Shyren had collected throughout her career as a journalist. Every piece of information corresponded perfectly with the articles she had written on her blog to build cases on the crime she witnessed in the city. She had gathered an impressive arsenal of reports that went above and beyond police investigations themselves, and Papyrus silently commended her brave efforts with an approving nod of his head.

But as he finished reviewing the entire contents of the memory stick, including the dull paperwork that authorised the inspection of evidence, Papyrus suddenly noticed one last document that remained. _How could this be? I've read all the documents that had been posted on to her blog… how could there be one more?_

That's when he finally noticed the date on her blog… which _did not_ correspond with the date that Shyren had last used her memory stick. _The last time Shyren updated her blog was exactly one week ago, but this document had only been opened a few hours before her death. What… could this mean?_

Cautiously, Papyrus opened up the last document that Shyren had written. And he almost jumped from his chair in pure shock the moment he read the first sentence…

 **Asriel Dreemur open fired a handgun at a nightclub named THE CORE, creating mass panic and chaos before he fled the scene with a female accomplice, who is known to frequent the controversial club named THE UNDERGROUND...**

 _Asriel Dreemur. The mayor's estranged son._

 _Asriel…_

Papyrus slammed his palms against the steel desk, and the computer shuddered from the sudden tremors this created. But Papyrus was too overcome with shock as this new piece of information spun around and around in his head, until he became dizzy with adrenaline pumping through his fast-paced heartbeat. He read Shyren's article over and over whilst highlighting key elements of the event in a separate file. He wrote down Asriel's name so many times until his penmanship became erratic with nerves. He wrote down the vague details about Asriel's female accomplice and the underground establishment. He wrote down the date that the article had been saved into the memory stick, and wrote down the date that Shyren's blog had last been updated. And finally, once Papyrus put two-and-two together, he figured out that the document about Asriel _had_ to be the next article for Shyren's blog… but it appeared that she died right before it could be posted...

… _or it could have been deleted by whoever had taken her computer._

The world shook beneath him as he had accidentally stumbled further down the rabbit hole. And amongst the whirlwind of excitement, there was a sudden suffocating fear that loomed over him, as if the more evidence he unravelled, then the more his very life was in imminent danger. But despite this… Papyrus swallowed his fear and he soldiered on.

…

…

Meanwhile, the night sky had dripped through the gridded blinds of Chara's office at the back of the Underground, whilst the lone desk lamp upon her mahogany station tore a faded beam of light towards her sharply manicured fingernails drumming across the surface. She sat in her thick leather chair, silently listening to the rhythm she created as it slowly echoed throughout the spacious room. Until the door to her office quietly clicked open, and the bald-headed 'skeleton' shimmied inside with his infamous fake smile plastered over his rugged features. The moment he shut the door behind him, Chara's drumming abruptly halted, and the pair were stricken into a high tension silence.

Sans casually walked to the centre of the room. His loafers stepped lightly over the wooden floorboards until they were silenced by the soft cotton rug, coloured crimson to hide the stains in the ground. But still, neither one of them made a sound nor a movement for what seemed like an eternity. Sans amusedly remembered Chara's impatience, and had only waited until she slowly turned around in her chair to make the first move. When she did, her cold expression bared no trace of the same amusement.

"…you're late." Her voice sliced through the tension like a razor.

However, Sans was unaffected by her as he shrugged nonchalantly with his hands buried deep in his oversized jacket.

"I was caught up with a client. It's not every day that a car show sells a first generation Lexus LS. Heh, shame. Knowing how you handle the auctions, it's inevitable that it'll be passed down to one of your gangsters with zero automotive experience. What a waste. It's a vintage item, y'know."

"I couldn't give a damn if the King of Denmark drove it. The only reason we have set up this car dealership is to provide our employees with company cars like any other authentic business. You know they'll just come back to us with bullet holes etched into the windows, so it's your own fault for investing so much time into it..." Suddenly, she stopped as her widened eyes slowly met up with his, and a cruel smile curled at the corners of her blood-stained mouth, "Oh dear, have you actually deluded yourself into thinking this dealership we share is a legitimate trade? It seems to me that you put so much effort into finding quality cars because you're under the impression that this dealership is anything beyond our initial purpose… which is giving getaway cars to _gangsters with zero automotive experience._ It's part of our recruitment package. Don't lose sight of that!"

As the vein on her prominent snow-white neck pulsated with adrenaline-fuelled anger, Sans had remained as unaffected as ever before. He stood his ground in a zen stillness, and his phony smile hadn't flinched in the slightest. Chara couldn't see past his poker face, and it infuriated her to no end. Until he finally bared his teeth into a widened grin as he replied,

"You're right as always, Chara. Maybe I have too much _driving_ ambition." Sans let loose a low-sounding wheezy laugh and doubled forward with his hands holding his sides. But Chara hadn't reacted at all. Sans paused immediately at this. He didn't take kindly to those without a sense of humour, and as he cleared his throat, Sans continued sardonically without a hint of amusement left, "So boss, what would you prefer I do? Should I invest my time into buying tanks instead of sedans?"

Chara froze in petrified anger at this remark. Bit by bit, she leant forward as her sharp nails stroked over the shape of the wooden flower sculpture sat in the corner of her desk. And slowly, she rose from her leather chair without uttering a word. Sans remained rooted to the spot like an unyielding statue as Chara skulked around the edge of the desk with her fingers fluttering over the sculpture. Half of her silhouette had been draped in the faded lamp light whilst the other half of her had been swallowed by the darkness, appearing almost like a demonic entity. And once her heels stopped clicking the moment she stood confidently before the skeleton, Chara shook her head with a disgusted smirk.

"You have a lot of nerve to mock me, comedian. I've suffered enough of your smart mouth." When she plunged her hand beneath the material of her military jacket, her crimson eyes sparked with fury as she snarled, "You forget your place too easily… but I'm going to have a lot of fun reminding you!"

Without any warning, Chara gripped the barrel of her pistol buried inside her holster, and swiftly whipped the handle as hard as she could across Sans' jaw. Blood spurted from his mouth as he fell back in pain and stumbled to the ground. When he dropped to the carpet, Chara pulled up the hem of her high-heeled boots, and sharply rammed the pointed toe cap into his ribcage. Sans cried out in agony as he recoiled backwards for safety. In a spur of desperation, he crawled towards the line of cabinets against the walls and slammed his back against the metallic doors. The intense tremors shook the rickety walls and snapped the fragile ceiling light from its hinges. And as it flickered to life with sparks flying off the splintered bulb, it swung like a slow-moving pendulum above their heads, and her terrifying shadow danced in sync over the walls like a tango.

Quietly, Chara pressed the gun barrel against his head, and the cold steel made him flinch. With her finger itching towards the trigger, she ruthlessly began,

"Now that we've established who is ultimately the one in control, I can get to the matter at hand. The reason I called you here… is because of your _brother_."

Sans' eyes shot wide open and his breathing instantly halted. But Chara simply tutted with impatience.

"Oh, don't act so surprised. You must have known that I've had my suspicions from the very beginning. As long as you work for me, then your business is my business too. I'm not stupid enough to let an ex-hero cop into my operation without doing an extensive background check. How disrespectful of you to underestimate my intelligence like that!" Sans took a sharp inhale of breath as Chara flicked the safety off with her thumb, and she seethed through the grit of her teeth, "If you are helping your brother with his investigation against my empire, then I swear… I'll see to it that your brother's throat is slit by the very gangster who will own that Lexus you love so much! Listen to what I'm saying and let this sink in, comedian. I will throw you into the boot of that car and drive it into a lake so you can _die_ with it! Do you fucking understand me?!"

Sans abruptly held his trembling hands to the air in defence as he pleaded.

"Ch… Ch-Chara, wait a second! I'm not betraying you, I swear it! My brother may be working on the case against you, b-but what would I gain from helping the investigation? I don't want him to know that I'm working for you… god, if he ever knew of all the crimes I've committed for you… it'd break us both. B-Besides, he trusts me! H-He does, he trusts me! So just… leave this matter to me. I'll join his investigation as your informant! I'll distract him with false information, a-and I'll tell him whatever I need to get him off your trail. My brother trusts what I say, so he won't question it. I'll say whatever it takes. So just… just don't hurt Papyrus…"

A long minute passed before Chara finally withdrew the gun away from his perspiring forehead. Then, whilst she stood over him and pocketed her pistol, a cruel satisfied smile lit up her devilish features engulfed in the harrowing shadows swinging to and fro by the remains of the ceiling light, and replied with an irritable sigh,

"Alright. As much as I love seeing you writhe at my feet, I can find it in my merciful heart to trust your word. I promise I won't touch you or your brother… so long as his investigation does not proceed any further than it already has. I'll entrust this matter to you, Sans. So you'd better take this opportunity to prove your loyalty to this empire. Otherwise you know what will happen."

Sans paid no mind to the blood spilling over his chin as he locked eyes with Chara, and proclaimed with confidence,

"Papyrus won't find out a thing. I'll stake my life on it."

"Good. Now… don't make me regret this decision to spare you." She threatened half-heartedly, before collapsing against the windows as the blinds clattered against her figure. Sans immediately noted how fatigued she appeared to be as he caught sight of the deep shadows burrowed beneath her glacial eyes. And as she ran the palm of her hand over her sweaty brow, she casually dropped her guard to confess, "Honestly, I'm relieved to hear that from you. There are only a few men in this world I can truly depend on, and as much as I hate to admit this, you are one of these favoured few. Don't get me wrong, I still hate how shady you are, and you have the most obnoxiously idiotic grin I've ever seen on a man, but there's no denying that you're a reliable asset to my business. So I have faith in you, and I hope you can understand why I've been on edge recently. Ever since discovering Asriel in the arms of my sister, I've been having a hard time trusting people…"

Sans had to blink hard as he replayed what he had just heard over and over in his mind. He could barely make sense of the sudden sharp jabs in the depths of his heart as the impossible image of the pair coupled together materialised into the realm of reality. But still, he muttered in disbelief,

"Frisk… with Asriel?"

"You sound almost disturbed, Sans. I suppose it is shocking news, but I didn't expect you to react this way." She said with a cocked eyebrow, and bent forward to inspect him closely with her scarlet eyes crossed, "I can't tell in this low lighting, but it looks as though your face is flushed…"

"Well, you did punch me in the face." Sans rushed to this defence, and Chara immediately laughed darkly in turn. And as the mood surprisingly began to lighten, Sans shuffled against the cabinets to straighten his back and grinned artificially, "So are we done here?"

"Hm? Oh, yes… yes, I suppose we are. We've cleared up our little indiscretion. I have nothing further to add to this meeting."

"Then I'll be going now." Sans stated casually as he confidently lifted himself from the ground and readjusted his jacket over his shoulders. Chara was astonished. He acted as if he hadn't been hurt at all. Chara watched him curiously as he nonchalantly flicked his thumb over his grinning lips to wipe away the remnants of blood clinging to his skin, and turned to her once more with an unnatural smile to comment, "You're a funny lady, Chara. You always manage to land the _punch_ lines. But just so you know… my jokes take their time. And I assure you, the finish is always a _killer_."

Chara's scarlet eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly filled the office with his maniacal wheezy laughter, and an involuntary shiver ran like a shock of lightening over her spine. As much as he tried to cling to his image as a joker, Chara saw right through his comedic façade and caught on to the underlying threat in his voice. And she frowned with disdain as she commented,

"I never did like your sense of humour."

"Ah, you just don't get the joke, that's all." Sans simply smiled with a dismissive wave of his hand and headed towards the door, before he peered over his shoulder one last time to add, "…but give it time. You will."

The picture of his dangerous sapphire eyes had been scorched in Chara's memory as he disappeared down the dark hallway of the Underground, before his monstrous presence could no longer be felt in the night air.

Even Chara herself wasn't immune to it.

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Eight End. Chapter Nine soon…_

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! I apologise for not updating for a while, but as I have a lot of free time this summer, I'm likely to continue updating this story regularly again! I hope you're still interested, and please let me know if you are! Leave a review and tell me what you thought of this latest chapter! I already can't wait to get started on the next one… it's going to be a big one! Cheers for reading, and I'll see you soon~!**


	9. Ode To The Rookie

Chapter Nine :: _Ode to the Rookie  
_

…

There was a long boardwalk at the docks that stretched over the calm ocean waters, and the clear skies reflected across the surface like an untouched mirror. Frisk stood at the very edge of this boardwalk, far away from the shores and the rest of the world. The waves gently crashed against the planks and flicked shredded drops of heavy water against her bare legs, beneath the hem of a honey-coloured summer dress rested over her knees. Her shaggy hair brushed over her flushed cheeks as the winds picked up and swept the strands across her face, which bared a vacant expression as she delved deep into thought.

The onslaught of salt in the air attacked her senses and mercilessly reminded her of a childhood at sea. The ocean left a muggy taste in her mouth that felt suffocating and liberating all at the same time. Although she had bared witnessed to the brutality of man early on in life, and yet somehow… she missed the life she once had. Despite all of her horrific experiences as a child, she still found herself dragged into nostalgic trances every time she visited the sea. The sound of gulls brought her back to endless nights in a damp bunker, where she stared dreamily out of a porthole with childlike fantasises of swimming amongst the stars. The sight of tuna swimming erratically in clusters beneath her feet reminded her of the stories she'd tell to her sister. Chara always liked hearing about the ones where two girls would transform into fish and swim far away… towards a freedom where there would only be the two of them.

No one else. _Just them._

Frisk suddenly realised that she had rested her heavy head in her hands the moment she heard familiar footsteps approach her from behind. And she slowly turned towards her company in a daze, ignoring the layer of sweat mounted over her skin.

"You look like you could use this." Asriel commented with a smirk, and held out a vanilla ice cream cone. Graciously, Frisk took it, and the melted droplets that ran over her fingers felt incredibly refreshing in the heat of the afternoon sun. As a crooked smile returned the life back to her sparkling eyes, she sarcastically replied,

"Is this your way of saying thanks for letting you hide at my apartment? I'm a little offended, in all honesty. I thought I was at least worth a cone with sprinkles." When she immediately noted how Asriel frowned at that remark, Frisk snorted as she casually leant backwards against one of the wooden bollards scattered along the boardwalk. With a laidback shrug, she smiled apologetically, "Sorry, didn't mean to touch a nerve. I guess I didn't really expect this kind of gesture coming from you. Usually when you want to say thanks, you just sorta grunt at me."

"I resent that. I can be generous when I want to. I might not show it a lot of the time, but I'm actually a really nice guy." Asriel boasted confidently with no hesitation. But as soon as Frisk bit her lip with a sceptical roll of her eyes, Asriel almost choked in disbelief, "What's that look for? You think you got me all figured out, huh?"

"No, no, that's not it! You're a complicated guy, Asriel. It's just… you have to admit, it's not like you're the most compassionate person in the city. For instance, think about what you do as a job, or better yet, think about who your _girlfriend_ is and what she does for a living! Let's face it, you don't exactly have the track record of a saint, do you?"

Asriel remained as stubborn as a child when he scowled and crossed his arms, then he wandered beside her to lean back against a nearby bollard. With a pout puckered between the faint facial hair that framed his boyish mouth, he sharply defended himself,

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't believe that my job or my love life defines who I am at my core, so you may as well get that short-sighted opinion out of your head already. The kind of guy I really am is the kind that says thank you with a cone of ice cream, because that's what nice guys do."

Again, Frisk snorted with a large smirk stretching her full lips, then slowly nodded,

"Ah, right. Sure…"

"You still don't believe me? Fine. I'll prove to you that I can be nice, somehow." Asriel challenged himself as he whipped his gaze around the boardwalk. No ideas came to mind as he found that the two of them were completely isolated at the docks. And as he slowly gave up his search, his attention involuntarily wandered back to the girl sat peacefully beside him. When he did, his eyes grew distant and melancholy as he silently watched her in thought.

Asriel traced the way that the dress tightly cinched around her thin waist, and looked over the straps stretched against her prominent shoulders, which had attractively accentuated the length of her long neck. He noted the loose strands of hair captured in the corners of her mouth, coated in sticky ice cream which had made her lips glisten. And with a voice as detached as his gaze, Asriel commented, "Hey… that's a really pretty dress you have on."

"Ah, ah! Flattery is too easy…"

"No, I… I really mean it. Honestly, that had nothing to do with proving anything just now. I just wanted to… tell you that. That's all."

As Asriel seemed to withdraw into himself all of a sudden, Frisk's eyes slowly widened in surprise.

"Oh! I see." She said incredulously, before softly laughing, "Well, thank you. That's really nice of you to say. I guess you win."

Asriel stared all the more intently at her in silence, and his arms loosened when his contemplative mind began to wander. Frisk wondered if he was quietly revelling in victory, but she was quickly caught off guard by the softened tone of his voice as he suddenly opened up,

"I bought a dress just like that for Chara once. I still remember how she looked when she wore it… I had never seen someone look so beautiful before. You remind me of her so much, Frisk. It almost hurts to look at you… you just look like how Chara used to…"

"I do?" Frisk asked in a whisper as she bashfully tucked strands of hair behind her ear. She honestly didn't know how to take this comment, so to put her mind at ease, she asked out of pure curiosity, "What was Chara like when you met her? You told me once that you loved her the moment you saw her…"

"Yeah, as clichéd as it sounds, that's exactly what happened. And, well, she was nothing I can really put into words… but in short, she was as large as life. I first saw her during one of my father's political rallies a few years back. There was a huge crowd around us, but she made them all seem so insignificant. The crowd parted in two waves – just like from the tale of the Red Seas – and she stood in the centre of the clearing soaked in the sun as if it was her spotlight. The strength of her voice carried over all the chanting and the megaphones… I actually thought she was calling out to me. And she had this _unshakable_ confidence that I'd never seen in any woman before… everything about her at that moment was just… I don't know, mesmerizing…"

Asriel tenderly ran his hand through the long length of his dirty blonde hair as his gaze to the skies softened. Although his expression was half-hidden by the loose strands carried by the winds, Frisk was surprised to notice how a small tinge of crimson brought colour to his face, almost as if he was embarrassed the more he recalled the event. It was a strange sight, Frisk found, to see a concealed side to Asriel finally surface and reveal how bashful he could be. A small sisterly smile crept upon her lips as she suddenly noted how his blush deepened as he continued,

"We locked eyes for a few seconds, and that's all it took for her attention to drop on me before I even knew what was happening. And when she spoke to me with so much enthusiasm… she made me feel as if I was the most important person in her universe. She had this… _indescribable_ presence, I wish I could put it into words. Though our secluded world didn't last very long when an audience quickly formed around her. Everyone seemed to hang off of her every word just like I was. She made us believe that anything was a possibility. She was like an unstoppable force as she promised the world to us on a platter. She was… god, she was just incredible. That meeting was the moment I knew I was hers for life."

Frisk remained mute in deep contemplation whilst Asriel sighed. His hand gripped into a fist as he rested it against his chest, and he went on as he caught on to Frisk's silent concerns,

"I know how it sounds. I'm not completely naïve to think that Chara hadn't had this effect on hundreds of guys before me. She's a natural-born leader, so of course she's going to have legions of devoted fans promising their lives to her just as I have. But, y'know, what separates me from everyone else in the world is the fact that she _chose_ _me_. To this day I still have no idea why she did, but you know how she is – once Chara makes up her mind about something she wants, she will do everything in her power to get it. And she wanted me. Like I wanted her."

Frisk's eyebrows rose in surprise, as if she could practically hear Asriel's frantic heartbeat crashing against his chest. It was a surreal feeling to hear someone praise her sister so much, especially knowing what she does and what she's really like, but Frisk avoided the urge to interrupt him in the midst of opening up his heart to her. However, it was short-lived as Asriel's hand fell away from his chest, and his scowl returned as his shoulders hunched forward with disdain.

"Chara used to be so passionate about the two of us. I had never met a woman so protective of me until I met her… but now I'm lucky enough to get two sentences from her. To be honest, I should have seen this change coming from the very beginning. For as long as I've known her, there was always something… _missing_ from her life. This void in her heart relentlessly festered and ate away at her soul, until she was completely consumed by it. I never knew what caused this to happen… until recently. And I'm willing to bet that you can figure it out as well."

Frisk hesitantly nodded with a regretful frown, and she reluctantly confirmed it aloud,

"I'm the only family she's ever had. I guess in a way, it makes sense that my absence had affected her this much…"

"More than you'll ever realise." Asriel stated sincerely, before he suddenly smirked with exasperation, "Truth be told, I'm insanely jealous of the way she favours you out of the both of us. Hm! Pathetic, right? I'm so desperate for my girlfriend's attention that I'm actually envious of the way she treats her twin sister…"

As Asriel solemnly laughed under his breath, Frisk shook her head and immediately disagreed.

"You're wasting your energy, Asriel. Sure, Chara cares for me, but it doesn't feel genuine anymore. When she holds on to me, I can feel it somehow. It almost feels like she's forcing herself to love. She puts on an act and expects total compliance in return. It's… actually kinda sad the more I think about it." Frisk timidly held her arms to herself as she suddenly felt a painful tear in her chest, almost as if she could quite literally feel her heart breaking, and her quiet voice strained in her throat as she solemnly continued, "We're not sisters anymore, Asriel. We haven't been sisters in a very long time. Now it feels as though she's grooming me into some kind of successor. God, I didn't ask this… I didn't ask for any of this! I just… I miss the sister I used to know…"

Asriel could see the clear anguish in her eyes as her voice ran out of breath and trailed away. As much as Frisk's expression begged not to delve further into this, Asriel's curiosity was too great, and he gently asked with a sympathetic gaze,

"Can you tell me what Chara was like when you knew her?"

Frisk lifted her gaze from the ground to stare off into the indigo skies, and let out a long-lasting sigh. Then, as she glanced at the boy waiting patiently at her side, Frisk answered almost light-heartedly,

"…she was clumsy."

Asriel spluttered and slipped off the bollard in shock.

"What? _Chara?"_

"Yes, our Chara. And no, I'm not making this up." Frisk confirmed and laughed at Asriel's almost theatrical reaction, before she continued somewhat cheerfully, "When we were both stupid kids, Chara was the most impulsive girl I'd ever known. She'd think of the most insane heists ever imagined, and then she'd act them out without fully thinking them through. And no matter how crazy the idea was, I'd go along with it every time – no questions asked – all because of how confident she always appeared to be. Although I assure you, it wasn't always as fun as I'm making it out to be. We faced our fair share of trauma. But in those times, we were always supporting each other like sisters are meant to. And, well… admittedly, I was the most supportive one out of the two of us… Chara used to cry a lot."

Asriel immediately scoffed at the thought.

"You're kidding, right? I mean, it's hard to imagine Chara with a vulnerable side at all."

"Everyone cries, Asriel. It's a basic human functionality." Frisk stated impatiently, before her expression slowly fell back into despair as a worrying thought abruptly sparked in her mind, "Maybe… the reason why she's become so cold-hearted and closed off is because of me. I supported her too much. Growing up, I was always by her side as her pillar of support. So when we were forced to separate, she no longer had me around to comfort her anymore. Maybe I'm the catalyst for her change. Maybe I'm responsible for the way Chara is…"

"That's a little arrogant of you to say, don't you think?" Asriel interrupted all of a sudden, and Frisk almost jumped in surprise. Then, as Frisk turned towards him with an eyebrow cocked in confusion, Asriel calmed his approach and told her sympathetically, "Your absence may have participated in shaping the way Chara is now, but don't you think it's unreasonable to take the _entire_ blame for yourself? That's sorta arrogant to believe that. Because it sounds to me like you did the best a sister could do in a situation like yours. How egotistical to claim that you're the sole influence on her entire life! When it all comes down to it, you didn't make Chara's choices for her. Only Chara alone can do that. So don't beat yourself up about it, otherwise you'll stress yourself into an early grave."

For a moment, Frisk was paralysed with surprise by Asriel's sincerity. She felt her heavy heart lift as she found comfort in his words. Humbled by his kind efforts, Frisk genuinely smiled to herself and clasped her hands over her chest to feel the steady beating of her weightless heart. Only once or twice would her thoughts wander…

… _I still wish I could've done more for her…_

But Frisk refused to wallow in regret, and frantically shook her head with determination to overcome these moments of darkness. And so, she quickly went on,

"Since we're on the subject of Chara, do you want to go to the Underground to visit her later?"

"I would, but Chara told me to lay low for a while and avoid the place."

"Ouch. Is she still upset with you?"

Asriel reluctantly sighed as he gave into a moment of despair. Then, he abruptly jumped up from the bollard to ruffle his own hair in frustration and shouted with anger,

"Aahhh, this sucks! I really wanna see her to talk and make things right with her!" Asriel whined with sadness, before he clenched his fists and angrily scowled, "It's driving me crazy knowing that the fucking _comedian_ is taking over my job! He's the shiftiest guy in the entire operation, yet he's the one who tends to our most personal matters with Chara close on hand! It doesn't make any sense!"

As Asriel said this, Frisk felt a discomforting twist in her chest, and it caught her completely off-guard as she realised just how bothered she was by this. _It's bothering me a lot more than it should._ For a moment, she felt her face burning from the heat of a fleeting blush, especially as she curiously asked,

"What does Sans do for Chara exactly?"

"He does whatever Chara tells him to do, just like the rest of us. But he mainly operates a car dealership trade in order to sell the products to hired gangsters and share the profits with Chara." Asriel explained begrudgingly, before a sudden burst of pure rage flared within him as he lashed out with a kick against a wooden bollard. The unrelenting brute force caused a jagged crack in the wood that splintered the bollard in half, and he seethed through the grit of his teeth, "It doesn't change the fact that I can't stand that smarmy asshole! If he gets any closer to my Chara in my absence, I swear to god the next time he wakes up, his head will be locked in a vice with my hands wrapped around the handle!"

Frisk swallowed nervously as this painted image tortured her imagination. She hoped with all of her being that Sans would not involve himself with Chara too closely for his own sake. But when she clasped a tight hold of her chest as her heart spiked up her throat, she felt her blush returning as she hoped for _her_ own sake as well.

…

…

Late in the afternoon, Papyrus sat in the driver's seat of his undercover police cruiser and waited for Sans to hop inside. The skeleton brother was all too hesitant to enter at first, as he didn't particularly intend on being caught inside the wrong side of a cop car, but he couldn't find it within him to refuse his brother's request. Especially as he recognised an urgent tone to Papyrus' voice when he called to pick him up. Trapped into a corner with no excuse in mind, Sans gave in to his brother's demands and dropped into the passenger seat. As he did, Papyrus grinned whole-heartedly and quickly sped away from the side-walk almost recklessly.

"You're in a hurry to get somewhere, Paps. What's the rush?" Sans asked nonchalantly, masking his actual concerns under a veil of indifference before prompting, "Does this by any chance have something to do with whatever you wanted to talk to me about?"

Papyrus simply grinned in reply, but his silence was torture for his brother. It wasn't until they had reached an iron bridge stretching across the waters of the city river before Papyrus could no longer take the secrecy. The fiery amber skies leaked through the car windows and brightened up his excited smile as he lowered his sun-glasses further down the slope of his nose, and his whitened teeth flashed in the glaze of the sunset as he chimed,

"I got a lead on the case I'm investigating."

Sans stifled a gasp as his heart instantly plummeted to his stomach. A glaze of horror flared in the indigo pigment of his eyes for a moment as all of his fears were suddenly realised. And he took a second to brace himself before he feigned excitement,

"That's…that's really great, Paps. I'm so proud of you. I always knew you were going to be an exceptional asset to the force. You're already a hundred times better than I was." Sans told him sincerely, and his artificial grin morphed into a genuine smile as he watched Papyrus beam with pride and happiness. Unfortunately, Sans had to mercilessly disrupt the moment and hesitantly dared to bring up the one question he feared to ask the most, "So… you gonna keep me in suspense here or are you gonna tell me who your lead is?"

Papyrus continued to innocently beam with pride as he stared out the windscreen towards the road ahead, until the car had reached the mid-way point on the bridge. The pair were directly centre of the river, held up by rigid girders and bridge suspenders on either side of them. It felt like a colossal iron cage had closed all around them, but only Sans felt as if he was suffocating. As Papyrus was blissfully ignorant of the dangerous territory he was about to tread, he cheerfully stated,

"I have reason to believe that our mayor's son Asriel Dreemur is connected to a lot of our underground crimes in the city."

And immediately as he said this, Sans' phony smile fell away within seconds. Even Papyrus had noticed how odd this reaction was, but even so, he went on just as before,

"Not much is known about this young man other than his estrangement from his parents, but I believe there's a lot of interesting secrets that he intends to cover up. The first time that Undyne and I had encountered him was strangely in a location known to us for its drug transactions. Funny coincidence, no? Well, that's what we believed after interviewing Mayor Asgore. Our mayor was fairly adamant about his innocence and his intentions to reconcile with his family… but that doesn't mean to say that his son intends to do the same."

Just then, Papyrus pointed towards the glove compartment locked in front of the passenger seat. For a moment, Sans was unsure what his brother was implying by this, but the sight of Papyrus' wiggling eyebrows had prompted the skeleton to curiously lean forward and rummage through the slot regardless of his confusion.

After much searching, he eventually pulled out a small stack of highlighted documents that was held together by a single paperclip. And after reading the first two sentences of the first page, Sans suddenly realised to this surprise that it was an exact copy of Shyren's article, detailing the night that Asriel had shot up The Core. Although Sans had only heard of the event from Chara's account, Sans was stricken into a shocked silence as he suddenly found himself learning of the incident for a second time from a different perspective. Sans had to wonder:

 _Does Chara know about this?_

Papyrus misread the disturbed expression painted over Sans' face and assumed he was simply surprised about the incident alone, so he continued with a smirk,

"Asriel certainly has a troublesome reputation, doesn't he? The reason this hasn't become public knowledge yet is because someone is covering up his actions by silencing anyone who threatens to reveal the ugly truth about him. That's what I believe happened to the girl who wrote that article – she was killed for simply reporting the truth about him. How… how _sickening_ is that?" Suddenly, Papyrus tightened his grasp around the steering wheel as his uncharacteristic anger flared like a searing hot rod until his knuckles were glazed in white, and his voice was low and shockingly intimidating as he stated, "I'm not going to allow that girl to die in vain, Sans. I'll find out what happened to her and see this case through to the very end. I'll stake my own life on it."

As he said this, Papyrus was soaked in the glaring sheen of the fiery sunset, and his marigold eyes were shimmering with an immovable purpose. It was the first time Sans had seen his kid brother this way – so matured and driven by a great sense of justice. It was an experience he could barely find words to describe. He knew then that this job as an FBI agent was changing him, and for the better. With an impish grin, Sans couldn't help but think:

 _Papyrus… I'm so proud of you…_

Suddenly, Sans fervently shook his head as he couldn't afford to be distracted by the overwhelming respect he held for his brother when he had a job to protect him. As he returned the documents back into the slot, Sans fought through his paralysing awe and attempted to sway him,

"That's… really noble of you, Paps… but, y'know…"

"I'm so close to busting this operation wide open, Sans." Papyrus interrupted suddenly, before his burning gaze flickered towards his brother with admiration brightening his attractive smile, "You can see how close I am as well, right? I know you can! After all, you're the greatest agent I've ever known!"

Immediately, Sans froze in shock and his tired eyes shot wide open. And in turn, Papyrus paused in surprise as he realised what he had just admitted out loud. Whilst the long length of his face filled with a glowing crimson colour all the way up to his windswept hairline, Papyrus coughed in embarrassment as he murmured shyly,

"Uh… just s-so you know, th-that's the only time you'll ever hear me say that."

"Paps…" Sans exhaled in immeasurable happiness. There were very few reasons for Sans to genuinely smile since he had left the police force, but that moment was by far the best reason he'd clung to in a very long time. Sans knew that only Papyrus could affect him in this way, especially as he felt his hardened heart lift towards his throat.

However, the moment was incredibly short-lived when he noted how the car had suddenly shrouded in darkness after driving through the shadows of the city underpass. The roads were dank and neglected, and the over-ground train tracks weaved in between familiar abandoned buildings with boarded up windows and walls oozing with grime and graffiti. It took a long few minutes for Sans to snap out of his blissful trance, and as he finally realised where Papyrus had slowly rolled up and parked, Sans audibly gasped in horror at the sight of the towering neon sign above their heads, blinking red in warning – _The Underground._

"Paps, what are we doing here?! This place isn't safe—"

"You read the article, brother! Asriel was seen with an accomplice who is known to frequent this establishment regularly. Doesn't it make sense to stakeout this prime location for clues on the case?" Papyrus exclaimed as he quickly grabbed hold of his brother's shoulders in a bout of desperation, and his marigold eyes strained with forlorn intensity as he pleaded, "I'm so close to figuring it all out, Sans. But I can't see any other way of progressing further without checking this place out at least once. Please brother, lend me your support to help me go through with this. You know I wouldn't ask unless… I really needed you."

Sans was tortured by the downcast sight of his brother, and knew he couldn't find the will within him to hold Papyrus back. As much as he valued his brother's safety, Sans respected him enough to believe he can hold his own when he needed to. Backed into a corner with no excuses to mind, the only family Sans had left was hung dolefully over his shoulders. It was too much to take all at once. Eventually, Sans sighed in defeat and told him sternly,

"Alright. I'll help you. As long as it's just this one time. I've… heard rumours about this club, and the patrons don't take kindly to outsiders, especially federal agents. It's too dangerous to do a thorough search without backup, so I don't want you back here again without clearing it with Undyne first. Can you promise me that, Paps?"

"Relax, brother. If we don't discover any suspicious activities linked to the case, I don't see any reason why we should have to come back. Does that ease your nerves?"

"It will once this is over and done with." Sans murmured as he begrudgingly unbuckled his belt.

Papyrus was already five steps ahead of him as he had quickly exited the car with the glint of his barely hidden pistol buried inside the pocket of his jacket. Sans nearly ripped the door from its hinges as he threw himself out and stumbled unsteadily to his brother's side, protectively taking the lead as he made sure to stay a few paces ahead. Papyrus cocked an eyebrow as he watched his highly-strung brother frantically whip his head back and forth to search along the street, but he didn't question this odd behaviour as they slowly approached the entrance of the club.

Sans hesitated for a few seconds with his hands placed over the double doors. Unbeknownst to the rookie agent, Sans had to take a moment to mentally prepare himself as an entire army of nerves relentlessly attacked every inch of him. It wasn't long before every one of his senses were suddenly dulled. Cold sweat broke over his forehead as his vision began to blur into a sheen of glistening snow-white, and a deafening high-pitched tone rang through his ears, blocking out every other noise in the environment. It took one last bout of strength to fight through this on-coming panic attack, until thankfully, he somehow managed to move forward on sheer willpower alone. With a long inhale of breath to calm down his frenzied heartbeat, Sans pushed open the doors, and lead his brother into the lion's den.

The club was as busy as it had always been. Groups of men in business suits gathered around attractive waitresses, clamouring for their attention and drinks, whilst a lively brass band played a jazz fusion on stage to rile the crowds at their feet. The onslaught of thick smoke immediately hit the brothers as they squinted through the dimly-lit entrance, and Papyrus had already began coughing as a result. Sans grabbed a hold of Papyrus' arm, and pulled his brother's ear close to him and shouted over the music,

"I can see a private booth on the far side of the room. It'll be the perfect place to lay low and watch out for anything suspicious. Follow me." Sans yelled, loud enough for his brother to hear, but also quiet enough to avoid any eavesdroppers passing by. And without sticking around long enough to hear a reply, Sans quickly lead him around the edges of the lounge to avoid being seen, and fiercely pulled his brother into the darkest booth in the club. Thankfully, it was out of sight from Grillby's bar and the large arched doorway leading towards Chara's office at the back of the building. They were safely hidden away from suspecting eyes, and Sans planned on keeping it that way.

Ten minutes went on by, and nothing extraordinary had occurred in that time. However, Sans couldn't keep still at all – his fingers tapped impatiently against the table surface and his leg bounced against the ground. Even Papyrus could see how agitated his brother was, which worried him extremely. Papyrus' vigilant eyes wandered from the scene in the club towards the anxious wreck of the skeleton that everyone feared, and noted how his artificial smile was as strained as ever before, to the point where Papyrus could practically spot the corners of his mouth twitching with nerves. Papyrus pressed his lips together in a tight line as he hesitated to say anything at all, but his worries got the best of him as he finally asked,

"Sans, you don't look comfortable at all. I'd have thought you visited places much scarier than this old dingy club. Are you feeling alright?"

As Papyrus began to reach out his hand to supportively place on his brother's shoulder, Sans immediately jolted out of his seat in surprise. Papyrus almost yelped as their eyes shot wide open, and their paralysed stares had locked into a paralysed state of shock. Sans was too tense to calm himself down even for a second. Before Papyrus could say a word further, Sans swivelled on his heels and shouted over the music,

"I-It's nothing, Paps. I… uh, I forgot to use the restroom before I came out to meet you. That's all it is. Stay here and guard the booth, okay? I'll… I'll be right back!"

Accepting this as truth, Papyrus simply nodded and sat back in his leathered seat as Sans rushed around the edges of the lounge towards the toilets. As he practically flew inside the safety of the men's restroom, Sans stumbled towards the grimy basin beneath a flickering LED light and almost collapsed against it. He caught a small puddle of water from the rusted taps within his palms before throwing it over his perspiring skull. It was a refreshing yet bittersweet sensation as drops of liquid slowly crawled over his heated skin, and broke away into bullets firing towards the sink. He stared at his bloodshot eyes in the cracked mirror, and the shadows beneath his withered sockets detailed the extent of his exhaustion. Slowly, he sighed and scolded himself,

"Hold it together… you've lived through worse than this… hold it together…"

Meanwhile, Papyrus kept his hawk-like gaze towards the arched doorway situated besides the bar where Grillby worked. Whilst Sans recuperated in the restroom, Papyrus had unwittingly spotted a couple of shady-looking men walking through the doorway with what seemed to be broken baseball bats in hand. Although Papyrus had only caught a very quick and fleeting glance at them through the density of the lively crowd, his gut instinct highlighted this small detail as a key element to his case… although he couldn't quite place it, somehow he knew that these men looked _vaguely familiar_ …

All of a sudden, his attention was distracted by an hour-glass figure disrupting his line of sight. Papyrus blinked vacantly for a moment as he slowly looked over this person stood at the mouth of the booth, and noted how their sharply-cut nails ran delicately over the red-satin curtains draped by their side. It wasn't until Papyrus caught sight of their auburn bob-cut hair rested elegantly above their shoulders that his marigold eyes quickly lit up with recognition.

"Ah! Miss Frisk, wasn't it? We met at Muffet's diner that one time?" Papyrus chimed in his usual friendly manner.

However, the woman slowly shook her head in reply, and her crimson-painted lips curled into a devilish smile.

"Not exactly, sir. I'm afraid you're mistaking me for my sister."

A sharp shiver immediately ran down Papyrus' spine as she spoke. He wasn't quite sure why it seemed as though the temperature of the room had dropped several degrees lower, but something unpleasant crawled down the back of his neck like a warning. He could feel something sinister in the air as her colossal presence overpowered the atmosphere into a sudden sense of unease. But he remained frozen in her domineering gaze, as if he was stricken into wordless awe at the mere sight of her.

The woman kept her eyes locked on his all whilst she delicately pulled the curtain from the wall, hid them from plain sight, and slowly sat down on the opposite side of the booth with her legs elegantly crossed and her military jacket slung over her accentuated shoulders. With her elbows leant across the table, she laced her fingers together and smiled sweetly to the bewitched rookie who couldn't take his eyes off of her for a single moment. Judging by the graceful way she moved, Papyrus knew within minutes that he was in the presence of a incredibly influential woman.

With a slight tilt of her head, her charming smile finally formed words,

"Pardon my intrusion. I saw you sitting alone and thought you might want some company. I hope you don't mind." She stated cheerfully with a slightly ominous undertone, which Papyrus hadn't picked up on at all, "Allow me to introduce myself – my name is Chara. I'm the owner of this establishment."

"You… you _own_ this club?" Papyrus spluttered in surprise, whilst Chara hadn't flinched in the slightest. Papyrus could feel the pace of his heart racing a mile a minute, and in the midst of this adrenaline, he excitedly exclaimed, "This is perfect! Oh, um… excuse my manners. I'm FBI agent Papyrus, rookie investigator in narcotics and violent crime. If you wouldn't mind, can I ask you a few questions about a regular patron of yours? If it's too much of an inconvenience right now, I don't mind coming back another time and scheduling an interview…"

"I don't see any reason why we can't conduct it now, sir." Chara politely obliged whilst her sweet smile never once faltered, "May I ask who this is about?"

"I'm sure you've heard of our newly-elected mayor's son Asriel Dreemur, correct?"

For a moment, Papyrus could have sworn he saw the crook of her smile flinch in alarm, but he figured it was all in his head as Chara grinned even wider with an upbeat tone in her songful voice,

"I see. Asriel Dreemur… I'm sorry Papyrus, I'm afraid I can't be much help to your investigation. I've only spoken to the boy once or twice before, and I can't quite remember what we had discussed…" Chara lied through her teeth as she faked her disappointment, before she suddenly livened up with a plastered smile, "…oh, but I know he often drops by for a taste of our liquor! Grillby is head of staff at this establishment, and he's the best bartender we've ever had. Plenty of first-time visitors return as regular patrons after a sample of his cocktails. If I can convince you to share a drink with me, I assure you that my man makes a legendary dry martini…"

"That's very kind of you, but I'll have to decline this time. I'm driving so it'd be best to stay sober."

"Ah, finally. A patron with sense."

Papyrus laughed whole-heartedly as he dared to let down his guard. But he failed to see how Chara's eerie smile still hadn't move an inch. And soon, Papyrus got down to business,

"Well, the reason I bring up Asriel Dreemur is because we're interested in his recent activities and whereabouts. We've been receiving some disturbing accounts lately, so we'd like to gather as much evidence as we can before bringing him in for questioning." Then, as Papyrus whipped out a small notebook from his pocket and readily pressed his pen to the paper, Papyrus remained as professional as possible despite the eager tone in his voice, "By any chance, have you seen Asriel at the bar in the past week? And do you know if anyone was with him in that time? Any kind of information you can disclose will certainly be of help to us, and I assure you, nothing we've discussed will leave the confines of this booth."

Chara pursed her mouth into a slight pout as she rested her long forefinger against her lips. Beneath the dimly-lit lamp mounted on the wall, her silhouette coated in shadows made her appear to be lost in thought for a moment, before she dramatically sighed with a glum shake of her head,

"Hmm. I don't recall anything substantial. I apologise profusely, it seems as though my memory is failing to co-operate today…" The excitement on Papyrus' face quickly faded away as his shoulders slumped in disappointment, before Chara's smirk curled once a wicked idea played upon her mind, and her eyes suddenly lit up as she buoyantly asserted, "…ah, I tell a lie, actually I do recall seeing Asriel with a rather interesting looking man the other day. Although I don't know what they were talking about. They both looked so invested in what they had to say that I didn't want to interrupt the conversation."

"Do you know who this person was?" Papyrus readied his pen as he sat on the very edge of his seat.

"Yes, I believe so. It's hard not to recognise his face when he was seen so wearily often in the newspapers only a few years ago." And immediately as she ended on this note, Papyrus stiffened in fear. He could barely hear his heartbeat thump erratically in his ears as Chara nonchalantly revealed, "You may recognise his name as an ex-agent in the criminal investigative division, although these days he's simply going by a comical nickname – _skeleton_ , I believe it was…"

Papyrus could barely hear any other sound from the rest of the room other than the whisper of disbelief that passed his trembling lips,

"…Sans?"

Just then, a hand grasped the curtain from the other side, and the infamous skeleton brother in question impatiently tore the curtain apart with his eyes cemented towards the rookie, who stared back in a state of shock.

"Hey Paps, you almost done here? We'd better leave before we run into trouble—"

Immediately as his eyes wandered to the opposite side of the table, Sans forgot how to breathe the moment he saw her. His withered eyes slowly widened as far as they could go whilst his parted lips passed no air between them. Fear and loathing gripped at his throat as the spiralling world halted all around him. But still, Chara simply smiled in return as her breathy voice lowered,

"Looks like trouble has found you, comedian."

Papyrus mistook the look of horror on his brother's face and assumed he was merely surprised to see her there so suddenly. And then he gasped as he asked,

"Sans, you know Chara?"

Silence dragged on as Sans couldn't find the will to move. It seemed like his sense of reality had broken up into this hellish nightmare world that he couldn't escape. Numbed with fear, Sans simply stared wide-eyed in horror at the woman who had wanted him dead. Meanwhile, as Papyrus began to question his refusal to talk, Chara immediately jumped to his rescue and cheerfully spoke for him,

"I'm not surprised that Sans hasn't mentioned me to you, Papyrus. We manage a small trade together in the automotive industry, and although I wouldn't say we _know_ each other, I've worked with him long enough to know just how aloof he can be, even with his own family it seems. Anyway, we're more like business partners at most. But I must say, I have to give him credit when it's due – I wouldn't share this trade with anyone else but him. Sans certainly takes great _pride_ in what he does!"

Chara giggled at her own comment, and although Papyrus blinked in confusion as he couldn't find the humour in what she had said, Sans immediately scowled in response. His indigo-tinted eyes flared with internal anger as he knew _exactly_ what Chara had meant. His hands balled into tight fists and his nails cut deep into his palms the more he remembered their last encounter. He still had the painful bruise on his jaw from where Chara had pistol-whipped him. Meanwhile Papyrus simply rolled his eyes in exasperation,

"I'm not surprised either. Sans is the most secretive guy I know! Oh, but then… if he knows Chara, this must explain how he knows Miss Frisk as well. Is that right, Sans? To be honest, now I'm a little disappointed. And here I thought my big brother had finally managed to get on a date with a pretty girl…"

As he said this, Chara doubled forward with loud laughter as Sans cocked an eyebrow in bewilderment. As she emerged from her seat to slowly approach the skeleton in question, her scarlet feline eyes were buried beneath her heavy lids, whilst the gloss of her perceptive smile appeared through the darkened shadows shrouding her expression. And when she gently caressed his heated cheekbone with a light brush of her sharpened fingertips, her devious grin widened,

"Don't lose hope, Papyrus. From the way this comedian turns red every time my sister's name is mentioned, it seems there might still be a chance yet…"

Sans pulled himself back with a look of disgust, as if he was repulsed to be touched by her. Yet he couldn't hide the glowering blush glazed over his skin, no matter how hard he tried. It was at that point when Sans knew he couldn't take any more of this intimidation. Without any warning to his brother, Sans lunged towards Papyrus to grab a hold of his arm, and pulled him out of the booth with all the brute strength he had left within him. And without even so much a gaze back at her, Sans muttered in parting,

"If you'll excuse us, Chara…"

Papyrus shouted out in surprise as he was suddenly rushed out of the booth, but he made no effort to free himself out of his brother's grasp as he immediately noted how uncharacteristic his abrupt anger had become. But he at least made enough of an effort to turn over his shoulder and called out to the woman left lingering at the mouth of the booth,

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Chara! Thank you so much for your co-operation! I'll come by again for a legendary cocktail next time!"

Chara waved back with a pleasant smile, until the skeleton brothers finally exited the building. And the moment that the double doors gradually swung to a halt once the brothers were no longer in sight, Chara's kind smile instantly fell away, and an unamused frown took its place. The lively brightness in her eyes had immediately dulled, and had been quickly been replaced by the emotionless empty gaze that every psychotic killer possessed. Slowly, Chara deeply exhaled. She was exhausted every time she was forced to keep up this 'normal' façade. It was like a mask she put on, but the tiring effort it took to wear it relentlessly torn at her energy.

And finally, Frisk emerged from around the edge of the doorway where she had quietly hid all this time. Avoiding the crowds and masses of drunkards, Frisk rounded the edges of the lounge and carefully approached her sister, who seemed to be deeply lost in thought. Frisk's eyebrows knitted together, and her voice was as low as it could go as she accused without missing a beat,

"You've always known about Papyrus, haven't you?" Chara didn't reply. Her silence had said more than enough. Then Frisk crossed her arms as she dared to ask, "So, what's going to happen now?"

"He's done." Chara answered simply without a trace of amusement. She made no eye contact with Frisk as she confirmed in her terrifying serpent voice, "Those two will never set foot in the Underground again."

Without another word, Chara turned away and confidently walked towards the doorway leading to her office. Frisk watched after her, completely overwhelmed by the dignified way her sister stepped in her heels. She walked in stride – with purpose – as if the world bent to her will, and her will alone. And as the overpowering presence she wrought had depleted in the instant that she disappeared, the room immediately erupted into a louder commotion. It was as if every individual was affected by her aura, and the effect it had was a crushing weight of total domination, whether they were aware of it or not.

Frisk thought back to the conversation she had with Asriel earlier that day, and she finally understood what he meant by her incredible influence on people. No one was exempt. And no one was safe.

Left behind to the cage of her thoughts, Frisk stared at the double doors in fear for their lives, feeling helpless to stop whatever was about to come.

…

…

Papyrus dropped heavily into the driver's seat as Sans quietly followed behind. As he buckled up, Papyrus silently pushed down the brake and steadily crawled away from the Underground parking lot, then carefully drove through the underpass until the piercing glare of the crimson neon light could no longer be seen. But even so, the warning signs never lifted. It followed them wherever they went.

The brothers were condemned to silent contemplation as the encounter with Chara had left them both somewhat shaken. A complete array of mess had bolted Sans to an eerie vacant stillness whilst Papyrus focused on one specific detail that he could not overlook throughout that entire conversation with the owner of the Underground. He remembered every detail of Chara's account like a tape recorder in his mind, and yet one sentence stood out the most in its own glaring neon lights:

"… _I do recall seeing Asriel with a rather interesting looking man… skeleton, I believe it was…"_

Chara's breathy voice circled in his thoughts as if it echoed in the cave of his mind. So many questions and theories were suddenly brought up about Asriel and his brother's connection, as well as the possibility that Sans may have more secrets than he was ever lead to believe. But still, the mere inclination that Sans had anything to do with this case was incredibly dangerous territory that he was not prepared to tread. His unshakable suspicions about Asriel was as strong as ever before, and he knew that his gut instinct was right about the boy's involvement with the mafia… but Papyrus tightly strangled the steering wheel and his throat ran dry when he asked himself…

… _could Sans be involved with the mafia as well?_

The second that this seed had been planted in his thoughts, he fervently shook his head as he completely rejected the idea from his mind.

"No… that's wrong… it has to be… what am I thinking?" Papyrus chanted aloud to himself with a small trembling laugh.

Sans immediately caught on to his brother's internal torture, and broke out of his own misery to comment,

"You look a little distracted, Paps. What's on your mind?"

"I was just thinking about something that Chara told me." Papyrus admitted with a shaken smile. Then, as the car rolled to a halt at an intersecting red traffic light, Papyrus hung his head in a solemn silence. For a moment, he was too afraid to say anything at all. But despite his heartbeat plummeting to the depths of his stomach, as he somehow managed to muster the courage to turn to his brother with a lost look in his doleful gaze, "Chara said… she said that you knew Asriel…"

Sans inhaled a sharp intake of breath, and his ashen eyes widened with dread. Desperately, he called out to him in a cry,

"Papyrus, I…"

"There's no need to explain yourself, brother. So don't even try." Papyrus immediately cut him off. Sans stared in wide-eyed shock as Papyrus suddenly smiled just as gently as always, and softly, he assured him, "I… understand that these past few years have been hard for you because of Gast… um, because of _you-know-who_. I understand that, truly I do. It's the reason why I've kept myself at such a close distance all this time. Even though you closed yourself off from me, and even though you have a lot of secrets that you don't want to talk to me about… even so, I _know_ you, Sans. You're my brother. And no matter what happens or what you do, you'll always _be_ my brother. You're annoying and lazy and cryptic! But… still, I believe in you. You can do a little better, even if you don't think so. I promise…"

Despite the immeasurable guilt weighing down his heart, at that moment, Sans could not love his brother any more than he did then. He smiled his genuine smile that only Papyrus could make him do. And despite his best efforts not to let his feelings show, an incredibly small tear formed in the very far reaches of his bloodshot eyes as he thanked the universe for overlooking his sins and gifting him with the greatest and coolest brother he could have ever asked for.

 _Papyrus… I love you, so much…_

The red light flickered off, and morphed into amber as Papyrus readied his hand on the brake. Slowly, Sans drifted his misty-eyed gaze towards the darkened road on their left where no other vehicle was found other than a curiously parked car sat in waiting at the traffic light. The windows were tinted, so the driver's identity was completely hidden, but Sans desperately spooled through the fog of his memory to recognise where he had seen it before. The shape, the colour, the make… something about that vehicle seemed oddly familiar… and it screamed danger… _danger_ …

And immediately, alarm bells rang like blaring sirens as Sans finally figured it out.

 _It's… oh god, it's the first generation Lexus LS!_

Suddenly, the thunderous engine of the car in question roared to life as the wheels spun furiously against the tarmac. Papyrus, blissfully unaware of the on-coming threat, pulled down the brake and rolled the car forward. And Sans screamed,

"PAPYRUS STO—"

But the Lexus cut him off as it collided and crashed into the police cruiser, crushing the driver inside.

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Nine End. Chapter Ten soon…_

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you thought of this latest chapter in a review, and I'll see you all soon~!**


	10. All My Friends Are Heathens

Chapter Ten :: _All My Friends Are Heathens_

…

Blackness. It's all Papyrus could see. Pain. It's all he could feel.

He wavered between a dream and the waking world where he could only stir helplessly in his catatonic state. Only slightly could he hear the muffled cries of his brother, as well as the collective array of orders strung together by paramedics strapping him gently to a stretcher. He could feel no fear – his brain had numbed too much to feel anything but pain. In a paralysed state without fear, he stumbled into a realm of claustrophobia – hopelessly trapped in his own comatose mind.

Fingers laced through his and squeezed them tight. These fingers felt callous and scarred, firm yet familiar – through the last lingering threads of consciousness, Papyrus knew that these were his brother's hands. He could sense it in the gentle way that Sans would clasp the entirety of his lifeless hand between his own perspiring palms. He desperately latched on with all of his strength with no intention of letting go. Sans had always been so caring, and yet so passionately protective of him.

Papyrus drifted in and out of the conscious world. Gently, he felt the softening breeze brush past his catatonic body as he was wheeled away from the crash site. Still, Sans kept close by and tightened his hold of him, and desperately brought his lips to his brother's ear to whisper,

"Paps… oh God, my brother… please forgive me. I've failed to protect you. I'm so sorry… I've let you down. I was a fool – too careless to see the danger we were in the moment we stepped inside that club. At this point in the game, I can't afford to be reckless with our lives. I… I can't let my guard down like that ever again. I can't… I won't!" Sans seethed through the fierce grit of his teeth, and his harsh voice trembled as if he mustered the last of his breath from the depths of his throat,

"Paps… I will make it up to you. I swear to you now, I will not let something like this happen to you ever again. I will watch out for you until my dying breath. I swear it. Although you won't see me, I will stay close from the shadows. Rest easy and recover, brother. We'll see each other again… someday."

And as Papyrus was slowly wheeled into the back of an ambulance, Sans reluctantly let his fingers slip away, and a frightening gash tore into the depths of his heart as he was forced to leave him behind… with no way of knowing when he would meet up with his brother again.

Sans couldn't let his emotions control him, no matter how much he wanted to stay by his side. As he backed away from the wreckage, just out of everyone's sight, Sans took this chance to slowly slink away before anyone noticed his disappearance. However, he made sure to look back over his shoulder to catch one final glimpse of his broken brother. He could only catch the sight of Papyrus' long torso strapped in the stretcher with his arm precariously hung over the side. His cold bloodied fingers lifelessly clasped at the air, almost as if he was reaching out for someone. Sans winced in agony. He couldn't bear to see his only family this way.

It took all of his strength to finally rip his longing gaze away and escape through the winding back alleys. He ran any direction away from the oncoming police sirens. Even as he had cleared away from danger, his feet refused to stop.

Sans picked up the pace, and his heart pumped with adrenaline and rage as his senses gradually returned. Sans knew it then – _this was all Chara's fault!_ He knew the moment he laid eyes on her, whilst she sat elegantly opposite Papyrus with a vicious smirk upon her scarlet-painted lips, they would walk out of the Underground with targets on their backs. Sans knew she would react with _extreme_ measures. He knew just how psychotically deranged his boss was, especially when it came to her enemies. And as he brazenly raced through the alleys with his relentless fury solely fuelling his steps, he knew then that Chara had ordered a hit on both of the skeleton brothers. It was painfully clear then.

Neither of them were safe so long as Chara kept on breathing.

 _And in order to save Papyrus… I'll need to put an end to that._

As terrifying was Chara was, Sans knew that he too was someone that no one should ever underestimate.

…

…

Papyrus was treated inside the emergency ward as Undyne finally arrived at the hospital. She nearly collapsed against the front desk after desperately running all the way from the parking lot. Through her heavily bated breath, she could only manage to spit out the rookie's name, but it was all the information they needed before doctors and nurses had immediately pulled her aside to break the news.

Once Undyne had been isolated with the medical staff in an empty ward, she was faced by a kind-eyed nurse wrapped in a hijab who had gently assured her that Papyrus was in safe hands. Once Undyne had begun to calm down and finally managed to catch her breath back, the nurse empathetically listed the rookie's status – the left side of his body had suffered several severe fractures, most notably in his shoulder and his leg, which had to be realigned and fixed with screws. Bruises were decorated over his torso and directly over his ribs, and his head had sustained a blow from the windshield that had shattered and cut his exposed skin.

"It will take around three to six months to recover, but after a car collision like that, he's lucky to be alive at all. Thankfully, if our operations are a success, there should be no long-term effects. Papyrus will be fine."

Undyne felt the colossal relief nearly knock her back off her feet. After she heard how badly torn up the police cruiser had been, Undyne could only assume the worst had happened to the driver inside. She gripped her chest tight and sighed heavily, and thanked the nurse a hundred times over before quickly exiting the ward.

However, as Undyne walked down the sharply-lit hospital corridors, she felt her steps waver into a slower pace. Her vision doubled for a moment as she glanced up at the piercing LED lights engraved into the ceilings, splitting the bulbs into two. Her body gradually became heavier and heavier the further she walked. Eventually, she staggered to a halt as she wobbled to the side, and leant her shoulder against the wall with her head hung low. With a hand held over her perspiring forehead, Undyne scowled in discontent.

In moments of weakness, Undyne would grit her teeth and mentally scold herself to carry on no matter what. But after a scare like that, she felt too vulnerable to even move.

She whispered under her breath,

"Dammit…"

There was only one person who could pull her out of a depressive episode. And she hoped with all her heart that this person would be able to answer the phone.

Undyne managed to drag her feet towards the spiralling staircase that lead towards an exit. There wasn't a soul to be seen as Undyne sunk against the steps and pulled out her phone from the inside her jacket pocket. She rested her head against the wall, her expression hidden beneath the shadow of her melancholy, and caught her bottom lip with her teeth as she anxiously listened to the tone of the phone ringing mercilessly in her ear.

Just when it seemed as though it rang on forever, and as Undyne's finger hovered over the button to end the call, the tone abruptly halted, and a familiar quiet voice sounded on the other side,

"H-Hello, Undyne?"

"Alphys. Oh, thank god. You answered…" Undyne heavily exhaled a breath of relief, and the corners of her smile caught strands of scarlet hair.

"A-Are you alright? You don't sound very well."

Undyne's smile widened all the more, knowing full well that her girlfriend could read her like a book, even without having to see her at all. She pulled the loose strands of hair from her mouth as she admitted with a sigh,

"Al… you have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice right now. I hope you'll be able to make it home tonight."

"Undyne? Wh-what's happened?"

She swallowed her bitterness over the situation, but it wasn't nearly enough to hide her anger. Her voice was still strained as she spoke through the grit of her teeth.

"My partner got hit by some lunatic in a sedan. I've just spoken to the nurse and she told me that he'll be okay once he recovers, but… oh man, my heart stopped for a while there. I didn't know what to expect when I ran in." Undyne sighed breathlessly as if she had held it in for longer than necessary, before her eyes slowly softened, "I… I really need to see you. And soon. When are you coming home?"

"I'll be home as soon as I can tonight. I'll bring home some sushi." Alphys suggested with a smile in her voice, before she hesitantly begun to ask, "So, d-did you catch whoever this lunatic was?"

"No, the bastard must've dragged whatever was left of the car and left before we could catch him. None of our key witnesses managed to catch any details of the driver or the license plate. Although one of them did recognise the make of the car – an old Lexus model, a vintage collector's item as I recall. Whoever that bastard was behind the wheel certainly had no regard for its lineage."

"I… I see…"

An audible gulp could be heard from the other side of the call, as well as some sudden excited whispers in the background. Undyne immediately picked up the commotion, and her instincts set off alarm bells.

"What's wrong, Al?" She questioned.

"…um, I have to go. My boss is calling for me. I think it's urgent."

"Oh, right. Sorry, I shouldn't have called like this…"

"No, Undyne, I'm glad you did. I know we don't see each other as much as we used to, but… I still want to be there for you in any way I can. Even if it's just a quick phone call." Alphys exclaimed honestly, as if her heart dangled off the tip of her tongue. Undyne rested her face, soaked in a blushing red, against the base of her palm to hide her grin. Then Alphys added softly, "Hang in there, I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Good. I can't wait to see you." Undyne sighed breathlessly, and ended with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you, too. See you later." Alphys promptly hung up the phone, and gripped it against her chest as she wished with all her heart for an escape.

Beside her, Chara nodded approvingly from the edge of her office desk. As always, her ever-present crushing aura filled the entire office with a sense of dangerous unease. Especially as her sharpened nails tapped against her chin as her serpent smile accentuated her intimidating gaze. And her voice came out like a croak, as if the act of speaking was too much of a bore,

"That was very useful information to us. Thank you for your co-operation, Alphys. As promised, you may leave work early. I'm sure your lover will be needing the comfort."

Without wasting any more time, Alphys nervously shuffled past her and disappeared quickly out of the office. She didn't dare to look back.

Frisk lingered by the steel cabinets as her careful gaze wandered over to Asriel, who was resting patiently against the doorframe of the entrance. His head hung down as his arms were crossed, locked together in a tense vice. He appeared like an immovable statue, and only came to life whenever Chara called for him. This only unnerved Frisk more. Chara's intense influence was too strong – _too terrifying._

Then, as Chara grabbed her phone from her military jacket, she addressed Frisk and Asriel without once looking up from the screen.

"What a shame it's come down to this. It seems that particular car model was more recognisable than I initially thought. But I guess it can't be helped. We need to destroy the evidence as quickly as possible before someone finds it in our territory. Fortunately the car hasn't sustained critical damage, so it still functions well enough to be driven." Chara's gaze lifted up her sister, though her eyes were buried beneath the shadow of her curtained fringe, "Frisk, I need you to take it to the compound and have it crushed. There's a guy I trust there who will take it off your hands. Make sure you avoid the main roads and take the back alleys, we don't need any more unwanted attention from the police. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Chara. But… before I do any of that, I have to ask…" Frisk inhaled deeply, slowly working up the nerve to ask under her intensive gaze, "…did, um, did you mean to kill Papyrus?"

Chara slowly shook her head, and peered towards the floorboards with a nonchalant shrug.

"Oh, no. That wasn't my intention. In fact, I'm relieved that he's still alive. If the mission had been botched and Papyrus had died from this incident, then I'm certain I'd have invoked the skeleton's wrath and found my throat slit by the next morning." Chara said coolly with a dismissive wave of her hand. Frisk's eyes widened, unsure whether Chara was really joking or not. Chara simply adjusted her military jacket over her slender shoulders and continued with a smirk,

"My intention was to send him a proper farewell in a fashion that suited the nature of this business. Think of it like a resignation notice. After all, I was _very_ serious when I said he'll never set foot in this place again. And if I've played my cards right, Sans will take this warning seriously and never bother my empire again."

"…Chara, this is the skeleton we're talking about. You know he's won't be so easily swayed." Frisk stated, her face as hard as stone, "Do you realise how serious this is? You put his brother in the hospital. Do you honestly believe he'll leave you alone after endangering his family like that?"

Chara opened her mouth as if to say something, until she promptly clamped her lips shut and turned away. Then she became eerily silent. As she withdrew, her smirk fell away into an unamused frown. For a moment, Frisk was genuinely surprised. She expected her to reply with some kind of strategic plan to explain her risky actions. But the uneasy silence carried on and on. Until the reality of the situation finally sank in.

Frisk clenched her teeth to withhold an audible gasp. Chara appeared so confident and terrifying all the time, so it was too easy to imagine that she had all the answers. Frisk hadn't realised that by hurting Papyrus, she may have gambled too much. At that moment, Chara seemed as if her armour had dented. Sans is dangerous and unpredictable, Frisk knew that much, so she had to wonder – _Does Chara regret what she's done? Is she worried about what Sans might do now?_

Chara suddenly turned towards the immobile man lingering in the doorway. Determined not to reveal any hint of vulnerability, she sharply ordered,

"Asriel. Go with Frisk and look out for her. It's too much of a risk to send her on her own tonight. Can I trust you with this mission?"

"Of course, Chara. Leave this to me." Asriel nodded obediently as he pushed himself from the doorway. He combed his hand through the sea of dirty-blonde hair, brushing the loose strands over his broad shoulders as he glanced over to Frisk with a boyish grin, and stated casually, "Actually I was kinda worried this might be too dangerous for her, so I was going to suggest that I come along anyway."

Frisk locked eyes with him, acknowledging his concern with surprise. Somehow she felt embarrassed, and her lips had even parted to sharply inhale before she forgot how to breathe.

Chara immediately noticed the sudden heated atmosphere. Her eyes widened as her face remained expressionless. Frisk nearly shivered as she caught the intense look that her sister shot at her. _If looks could kill…_ – this expression quickly sprung to mind.

Slowly, Chara rose from her desk, clicking her heels against the wooden floorboards as she straightened her slender figure. She wasted no time in approaching Asriel with confident strides, and gently slid her arms over his shoulders protectively. Her movements became fluid like water, and her tight embrace around him constricted like a snake. Asriel suddenly froze up in response, almost as if he'd been immediately hypnotised by her, especially as she pressed her entire torso against his. Chara wasn't ashamed to get as close as possibly, Frisk awkwardly noticed.

Chara's elongated fingers dove into his bed of hair to softly brush it aside, and brought her pouted lips to the edge of his ear to whisper seductively,

"Thank you for looking after my dear sister for me, Asriel, you're such a good boy. My family is _your_ family, I'm so glad that _you_ see it the _same_ way like I knew you would." Chara emphasised her words to force her point across, all whilst shaping each word carefully with her lips as attractively as possible, "Once you're done, make sure you come back to me safely, alright? Be quick. I'll be waiting with bated breath for your return."

Asriel looked as though she had cast a spell on him, as his heavy eyelids implied mindless compliance to her every word. His hands inched around her waist as his head slowly rested against her shoulder, soaking in every second of her closeness to him as he replied against her neck,

"Yes, Chara…"

He breathed out her name as though he was too caught up in bliss to be coherent.

Frisk's eyes widened as her jaw nearly dropped, having never seen Chara be so affectionate before. Asriel succumbed to her attention so easily, shown by the entranced sheen over his emerald eyes. As he buried his face lovingly against the crook of her neck, Asriel was drawn deeper into her will as Chara's long fingers fluttered over his jawline, pushing back his long hair to caress him tenderly. Asriel responded so eagerly to Chara's affection, as if he desperately clung on to every chance he could get to be close to her.

From this, Frisk caught a glimpse of what their love life must be like.

However, from the way Chara would flicker a flashing gaze over to her sister, Frisk knew this was an act of possessiveness rather than affection. This was clearly a warning to Frisk that Asriel was _hers_ , and her strong hold over him was far too powerful to shake off easily. After acknowledging that threat, Frisk found it difficult to swallow all of a sudden.

Chara allowed him a few more minutes before finally stepping back to meet his gaze. Though she made sure to keep him in her arms for a little while longer as she lingered the palm of her hand against his bristled jawline, before reminding him of the task at hand.

"Now go, both of you. I have some urgent business with Mettaton I should attend to. There are some opposing gang organisations that have been getting on my nerves lately, so I think I'll have Mettaton broadcast a report to pin this car crash on them. I'm sure the tabloids will love an easy exposé."

After she said this, Chara immediately turned away and swiped up her phone to promptly regain her professional business-woman persona. Her change in attitude was so sudden, like a personality whiplash, it was as if she had quickly forgotten the tender moment she had shared with Asriel and simply regarded it as nothing. From the way Asriel clenched his fists by his sides, Frisk could tell that he was bothered a lot by her coldness. She could see why Asriel desperately pined for her attention – he only wanted to be cherished by her, that's all.

But Chara barely looked back as he left the office with Frisk in tow.

When they exited through the backdoor, the damp night air in the dense fog knocked them back as it immediately hit all their senses. Asriel ignored the seedy setting and dug his hands in his pockets to fish out his cigarettes. The deep lines between his furrowed eyebrows accentuated his frustration, especially as he furiously flicked the zip on his lighter. When he took a deep drag, he finally calmed down a little, and Frisk knew it was finally safe enough to approach him.

"Thanks for coming with me." She told him honestly.

Asriel shrugged without making eye contact with her.

"Yeah, well, I couldn't let you wander around alone while that skeleton bastard is loose. You made a solid point back there, y'know. Chara nearly killed his brother – I bet he's hatching up some kind of twisted revenge plot as we speak. No telling what a man on a warpath is going to do next, especially someone as demented as _him_."

Frisk couldn't help but grin with perverse amusement at that comment, and a curious thought was suddenly brought to mind,

"It's funny. From what I've seen, it almost seems like his reputation is a lot scarier than the man himself. Sure, he laughs like the joker and he's built like a strongman from the circus, but I haven't actually seen him do anything too frightening."

"That just means he's good at what he does." Asriel told her irritably, sucking on the end of his filter whilst squaring his eyes at her with a frown, "Don't be fooled by that comedic façade of his. It's all phony. He's a rogue vigilante with a corrupted standard of justice. Whatever he went through as a cop must've been pretty damn traumatic to get this messed up in the head. I don't know much about what happened exactly, but I heard it had something to do with this guy called Gaster…"

"I've heard Sans vaguely mention that name before." Frisk quickly intercepted with surprise, "Do you know who he is?"

Asriel quickly clamped his mouth shut. Suddenly, he was alarmed by how much information he'd inadvertently revealed, and rested his cigarette between his lips in a strained silence. Frisk could tell by the way his vacant gaze would stare off into the distance that he kept many deadly secrets locked inside of himself. And Frisk couldn't help but hopelessly wonder about this unmentionable enigma – _Gaster._

After collecting his jumbled thoughts, Asriel exhaled deeply. Frisk looked too desperate to know, and Asriel strangely felt as if he could talk to this girl about anything. She chipped away at his defences way too easily. So he finally admitted in defeat,

"Yeah… yeah, I know him. But, well… it's a long story." He solemnly threw away the small remainder of his cigarette. Then, his long hair bounced over his shoulders as he motioned to Frisk with the flick of his chin, "C'mon, get in the car. I'll tell you about him on the way to the compound. It's best if we don't talk about it out in the open like this."

"Oh please, you're acting like Sans is some kind of bogeyman." Frisk quietly laughed as they slowly approached the damaged Lexus in the distance, "Besides, I don't think he'd want to hurt me. Sans and I are on good terms. We understand each other."

"I don't trust your sense of judgement at all. Didn't you come off the streets? Shouldn't you be less naïve than this?" Asriel snapped with a patronising scoff, "If you keep underestimating him like this, you're not going to last very long in the criminal world."

"Ah, I'm not worried about that at all. Didn't Chara assign you to look out for me?" Frisk teased, and Asriel passed her an irritated look with an arch of his eyebrow, before her sarcastic smile eased his temper instantly. Her grin widened, "You see where I'm going with this, right? If you don't want to get kicked out of Chara's bed again, you better keep me safe on this mission. So as long as I'm in your case, I think I'll be just fine—"

 _Wrong._

A sudden catastrophic explosion interrupted the scene.

The first generation Lexus LS abruptly caught fire and burst into flames, exploding into a mushroom of fire and carnage, as if a nuke had crashed into the earth.

Frisk was immediately thrown backwards from the powerful impact. Before she knew it, she was flying. It all happened too quickly to be processed, and she couldn't even comprehend the pain she felt as she rolled across the sidewalk like a boneless ragdoll. Ruins scattered around her and sparks of flame lit up the scene. Frisk's vision was warped and her hearing was muffled by the consistent sound of a dial tone, almost as if the deafening explosion had painfully ripped through her eardrums and broken her.

There was no strength in her aching muscles. She succumbed to the heaviness weighing down on her body, cementing her to the ground. Trapped in a daze, she could only make out Asriel's frantic voice amongst the commotion around her, before finally closing her eyes and falling helplessly into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, far-off in the distance, Sans silently watched the scene unfold. He perched on the roof of an abandoned warehouse with a pair of binoculars pressed against his ice-blue eyes. The shadows encircled around his sockets seemed darker than they ever had been before.

He dropped the detonator of his home-made car bomb to the ground, and crushed it to pieces beneath his foot. One more time, he peered through his binoculars to catch a glimpse of Frisk lying motionless on the ground. A pool of blood was forming fast around her lifeless figure. _An eye for an eye…_ – this expression quickly sprung to mind.

Sans turned away from the scene, refusing to let any creeping regret seize over his broken heart. And whispered to the wind,

"Sorry, kid. But I warned you, didn't I? As long as you're working for that woman, you can't trust anyone. Not even me."

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Ten End. Chapter Eleven coming soon…_

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I apologise for not updating in such a long time, this year's been a rough one. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait – there will be nothing but crazy twists from now on, I promise! I hope you'll stick around, and I'm really sorry for the irregularity. Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you soon~!**


	11. Two-Face

Chapter Eleven :: _Two-Face_

…

Chara plunged a knife into the ground. Over and over again. Red shadowed over her vision as rage pumped through her veins. _Rage. Too much rage._

"That bastard skeleton! That _fucking_ bastard skeleton! I see how it is. I hurt his family, so he hurts _my_ family, huh? Blood for blood, right? Fucking psychopath! Does he realise who he's dealing with? Does he have any _fucking_ clue who he's up against? That bastard… he doesn't know… haha… he doesn't know what he's started… bastard… _I'll destroy him!_ When I'm finished, he's gonna wish he _never_ fucked with me or my family! That damn comedian… I'm going to enjoy tearing you down, inch by inch, nerve ending by nerve ending… bastard… wait until I'm finished with you. There'll be nothing funny about what I'm going to do to you… bastard… _bastard_ …"

…

…

Papyrus dreamt of two faces, framed by manes of brunette hair. Their features were almost identical, except for the eyes. _Twin sisters._ One of their heads had lulled forward, as if she was sleeping soundly. The other stared coldly into the distance, with crimson irises as if blood had stained them. Their presence signified something, but Papyrus couldn't figure out why. He knew that something about her appearance didn't fit well. The twins infiltrated his dreams for a reason, he knew that much, but he couldn't place their identities anywhere.

He was condemned to look at these two faces with no clue why.

Papyrus awoke with a start. Recalling the dream of two brunette-haired twins, somehow he felt that these two characters were extremely important. _But how? Why am I dreaming of them so much?_

Papyrus lay in his hospital ward, dizzy from the dulled pain soothed by the drugs. But his mind, like an overactive cog, stirred with thoughts about his case. When he first regained consciousness, he was told in brief detail about the car crash incident. Immediately, this brought up clues from Shyren's report. It highlighted Asriel frequently visiting the Underground, which was the last place Papyrus invaded before his attacker put him in the hospital.

 _This was no coincidence… this was definitely no accident… something about the Underground has condemned me to this hospital bed… almost as if this was a warning… like I'm getting closer to the truth. Whoever's behind it all… must be trying to shut me up…_

His head was heavy, but somehow he had the strength to turn over to his bedside. In a chair to his left, a red-haired woman sat patiently with her face rested against her palm. The golden orb in her eye embodied a mixture of emotions – concern, fear, anger… and a great deal of sadness.

"Undyne…"

She stirred out of her thoughts to softly answer him, "Yes Papyrus?"

"That place… the Underground, right? Undyne, you have to investigate that place. Someone must have recognised me in there. Just by being there, I must have provoked a reaction that led to this. I'm… almost certain of this."

Undyne's mouth tightened into a straight line, "What are you saying? The car crash… was it a threat to you?"

"I'm not jumping to conclusions just yet, but… somehow I survived. That alone makes me wonder… was it intentional? Like maybe they still wanted me alive. I don't know, but it just doesn't seem right that I should still be breathing right now…"

"Stop that." She interrupted sharply. That's when Papyrus finally caught on to the way her fingers were trembling. Realising what she had done, Undyne balled her hands into fists in her lap, and avoided eye contact with him as she flustered, "Sorry. When you talk like that… it's just a little scary. Sorry. Don't mind me. Continue, please."

Papyrus considered for a moment if that was wise. But he knew Undyne better than that. She was a strong woman, even in her most vulnerable state. Papyrus knew that whatever he told her would be taken in stride, no matter how much it'd hurt her. That was just the kind of woman she was.

"All I'm saying is that it seems too convenient. Someone placed a hit on me, only to botch up the job this badly. If they wanted me dead, I'm sure it would have happened by now. So I have to wonder… what kind of message are they trying to send us?"

"That's a lot of speculation and not a lot of proof. Are you sure you're on the right track? Maybe you're just not thinking clearly. You hit your head pretty hard, after all."

"I'm pretty thick-skulled, y'know. It'll take more than a little knock like this to take me down."

Undyne studied his expression – the small grin on his face was strained, but he tried his best to smile for her sake. She sighed, feeling hopelessly at a loss when it came to this lovable broken man. It brought back ghostly memories of an old co-worker of hers.

"…you're just like he was." She whispered.

"Who?"

"…your brother…"

Immediately, his smile fell away. The atmosphere darkened like black clouds overshadowing the sun. Undyne almost regretted bringing up the subject of Sans, especially as Papyrus peered at her with desperate eyes.

He worked up the courage to ask, "Has there been any sign of him since the accident?"

"No. Surveillance swept everywhere – Muffet's, local car shows, the Ruins jazz lounge… hell, we've even sent a few undercover agents into the Underground. But there's no trace of Sans anywhere. I'm afraid we've had to mark him as a missing persons case." As Undyne confirmed this, Papyrus frowned. This expression looked too unnatural for someone as happy and energetic as him. Undyne bit her lip, hesitant to ask, "Do you think they—"

"—no, I don't think he's been kidnapped. If he has, I honestly feel sorry for whoever abducted him. Sans is a tough nut. He's gotten out of worse situations before…" Papyrus exhaled heavily as he gritted his teeth, "...and I know him better than that. This is what he does. Sans withdraws himself away from me, especially when he's hurting. I understand that must be what he's doing now… I'm sure of it."

Undyne crossed her legs and folded her arms, then arched an eyebrow as she tapped her fingers impatiently.

"What a big baby. Really, to think that he's sulking at a time like this! He needs to man up and rely on you more! You're not as fragile as he thinks." Undyne scoffed as she flicked her fiery ponytail over her shoulder, "Man, you're as bad as each other. You need to stop acting on your own and learn to lean on other people! I'm your partner, aren't I? Rely on me a little more! You scared me half to death, you know…"

Papyrus laughed, and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry."

He was genuine in his reply, as if he spoke with his heart on his tongue. It was so sweet to the point where Undyne nearly blushed, knowing that his childlike charm was her weakness. She turned her head away in a huff, and surrendered any urge to scold him further.

"…whatever. What's done is done. There's no changing the past. What's important now is solving this case." Undyne remarked, before peering back to him firmly, "So, can you count on me to lead the investigation in your absence? You seem to be dead set on this Underground club, so I'll check it out in more detail. Discreetly, of course. I don't want to end up lying in a hospital bed next to you."

"Alphys would kill me if I let something like that to happen to you." Papyrus laughed gently, as slight pain rang through his body. Despite this, he grinned as wide as he could, "Well then, I'll leave it to you. Thanks Undyne."

"Sure thing, rookie. Consider this my way of making it up to you. I'm your supervisor, after all. I'd better start acting like it."

"I have every faith in you."

They shared a respectful glance at each other, filled to the brim with the deep affection of a student and his mentor, before Undyne rose from her chair and left the ward. She walked with a brand new sense of purpose… fuelled by an unbridled taste for revenge.

…

…

 _Three months slowly passed on by._

Frisk was discharged from a private doctor on the outskirts of the city, courtesy of Chara herself. The procedure was as discreet as their location. Frisk recovered almost at an unnatural pace. She knew this had to be another one of the benefits of living a luxurious life in the underworld. Chara proudly proclaimed how lucky Frisk's position was as the sister of a kingpin, but she silently considered it a curse.

 _After all, living this dangerous life with Chara was the reason I was sent to the hospital in the first place._

Frisk perched on the rubble of a decaying brick wall as she waited to be picked up. Chara insisted on personally giving her a ride home, exclaiming how she felt too anxious to leave Frisk unguarded on the way back to the city.

But as she glanced beside her, Frisk wondered if the real reason was because Asriel hadn't left her bedside for days. He sat in silence beside her, his emerald eyes tracing the cracks in the ground as his mind wandered. Asriel was unusually quiet and level-headed, more so than he had ever been. He barely spoke a word to the doctors or the nurses during his visits. All he did was wander in and out of Frisk's ward, like a silent phantom.

Frisk decided not to question why, almost as if she was afraid of provoking a negative reaction if she had. Even so, she never felt obligated to try. Sitting side by side in the warm afternoon sun, there was no awkward tension to start a conversation. Rather, Frisk felt his company invited comfort. And Asriel felt mutually the same – especially since Chara never returned the affection he desperately craved from her.

They were just two lonely people, starved of genuine human connection.

Eventually, Chara rolled up in a charcoal BMW. When the window descended, she was revealed wearing a pair of fashionable sunglasses and the deepest shade of red coating her lips. As usual, she looked impeccable in style, and intimidating as ever.

Chara tilted the glasses down her nose for a moment, glancing swiftly towards Frisk. Then, she bared her teeth into a wolfy grin as she barked her command.

"Get in, Frisk. Can't have you roasting in this hot weather when you only just recovered, can we?"

Frisk peeked over to Asriel for a moment, hesitating before pacing around the car to jump into the passenger's seat.

When Asriel made a move to grab for the backdoor handle, the locks clicked loudly and shut him out. Asriel nearly stumbled backwards, wide-eyed in shock.

"Did I say you could join us?" Chara snapped, coldly scowling at the man in pure disdain, "I haven't seen my sister after months of lying crippled in the hospital, all because _you_ couldn't protect her like I asked you to. Knowing this, you still expect me to give up our precious time together for you? Have some respect, Asriel. Find your own way home."

Chara flicked the keys into the ignition as her feet sharply dug into the accelerator. As they sped down the empty roads, Asriel's voice calling out to them faded into the distance. Frisk was slack-jawed. She peered over her shoulder, catching the sight of the heart-broken man crying out for attention in the dust, until he was too far away to be seen.

Frisk turned back to Chara, stricken into silence as the cold-hearted mob boss appeared unfazed by her own ruthless actions. It was nearly unhuman.

Chara sighed as her eyes narrowed, "So this is where that boy has been hiding all this time. I was wondering why the tabloids have been so quiet…"

"Chara, are you completely heartless?! You're really going to just leave him there like that?" Frisk snapped in a frenzy, "How could you treat him this way? My God, I can't believe you! You're being way too harsh on him! Isn't he supposed to be your boyfriend?"

Chara only clicked her tongue, treating this as an overreaction, "Frisk, I don't see what's so horrible about wanting to spend some quality time with you. I just wanted to have some time alone with my sister. Is that so wrong?" Her eyes shaped into a doleful expression, and her hardened voice softened a little, "How long has it been since we last saw each other? I swear, it's like I lose track of time when you're not around. I've missed you like crazy…"

Frisk gritted her teeth, resenting that statement.

"If you really missed me, you could have visited… like Asriel did…"

Chara seized up all of a sudden. Her knuckles brandished a white hue, as if she gripped the wheel too tightly. For a minute, she kept silent in her twisted thoughts. Until her voice finally came out, low and spiteful,

"That Asriel… he came to see you a lot, didn't he?"

"I was mostly out cold, but yeah. That's what the doctor told me." Frisk shrugged nonchalantly.

"How amicable. And completely out of character for a guy like him." Chara commented without a trace of emotion. Frisk shot her a look of pure outrage, prompting Chara to scoff, "Oh c'mon. I would have thought you'd know better than anybody when someone is acting different. It's so blatant! Since when have you been this trusting, Frisk? This isn't like you at all."

Frisk seethed, hating the way her sister behaved like she knew anything about her.

She mumbled resentfully, "I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Stop feigning ignorance, Frisk. You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. Asriel has changed a lot – I've known him a lot longer than you have, so I can tell – he's changed in a way that makes me far too suspicious."

"You're suspicious of your own boyfriend? Seriously? You're basing all this wild speculation on nothing and gaining nothing from it. You're just looking for excuses to treat him like dirt. That's all you're doing." Frisk spat scornfully, gazing out the window at the passing scenery, "Your relationship is so screwed up, Chara."

"We… _may_ be going through a rough patch at the moment, I'll admit, but it's not like we're the kind of people who can have normal relationships." Chara glanced over to Frisk, her forehead creasing as her eyebrows furrowed up, "You have to understand. I'm in the business of threatening people for a living. Being a hardass is who I am now. It's not as if I can suddenly turn off that part of my personality to suit other people. But, despite that, I'm _really_ trying to make the two of us work. Me and you, I mean. We've been separated for so long… I don't want to tolerate any wedges that'll potentially drive us apart again, which _includes_ my boyfriend. If I come across as harsh on others and overprotective of you, that's only because I love you too much."

Frisk snorted, "Bullshit…"

All of a sudden, the car skidded to a halt. Frisk was nearly thrown against the dashboard. When she sat back, wide-eyed in surprise, she was met with Chara's equally shocked expression.

"Are you serious? Frisk… are you honestly questioning my love for you?"

For a moment, Frisk was unable to form a coherent thought. She never expected this kind of reaction from Chara. In her stunned state of mind, Frisk could barely defend herself.

"Well… you never came to visit me…"

"You won't let me forget about that, will you? I'm sorry, Frisk, work has just kept me busy. Running an empire doesn't give me a lot of opportunities to take a day off. The only reason I could pick you up today is because I had business nearby."

Frisk was still unsure whether to accept that excuse. But something about the way Chara sighed in exasperation made her reconsider.

"Oh Frisk, I can't believe you're having doubts about my devotion to you. You're my only family in the world. Don't you realise that? What kind of mafia boss would I be if I didn't care about family values? I would do anything to keep us together… I never want to separate from you again…"

Frisk fidgeted with her hands. Suddenly she felt lost and confused. She didn't know whether to believe this sorrowful act of hers, because Frisk knew how much Chara loved to play mind games. Her personality was so frustratingly flippant; it was as if she purposely controlled her moods at will as a means of manipulation. She was definitely not a woman to be trusted.

And yet, in the deepest reaches of her heart, Frisk wanted more than anything to believe her. The memories of how Chara used to be were still so fresh in her mind – how Chara used to cry on her shoulder, how they'd tell each other stories of escaping their dreadful lives together, and how her eyes would light up every time she saw her… Chara used to have so much love for her…

 _Maybe that love doesn't disappear all at once, no matter how long we've been apart…_

"You have to believe me, Frisk. It's not as if I _want_ to distrust Asriel. But I'd be a terrible sister to you if I overlooked his odd behaviour, especially when it comes to you. I can never afford to be so careless." Chara grazed her eyes with the back of her hand, as if to wipe away dry tears, "Anyway, I have reason to believe he's interested in you because he's jealous of our relationship. He's trying to get on your good side, so it'll be easier to manipulate you and tear us apart."

"Chara…"

"No, really think about it. Please. He knows he'll be able to get my attention if he gets closer to you. He's using you, Frisk. Just to get to me. I've… seen this happen before. He's always been this possessive when it comes to me. It's just the way he is."

"If that's true, then don't you think he'll stop behaving this way if you just pay attention to him a little more?"

"It's not as simple as that. Believe me, I give him enough attention as it is. A relationship like ours is hard work, especially when I have such a compromising job that takes up a lot of my time. He just… doesn't seem to get that. He doesn't respect our boundaries. He refuses to separate his feelings for me while we're at work. I've tried to make him understand, but he can't accept how dangerous his destructive behaviour is for all of us."

Frisk shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unable to say another word. Then Chara lowered her head with a sigh, "No matter what I do, it's never enough for him. And when you came on the scene, he's just gotten worse and worse. It's like he's only ever seen you as another obstacle that he needs to beat. I'm sorry, I may sound overprotective again, but I _refuse_ to let him get in the way of our relationship! Doubt me all you want, but you are… and have always been an important person to me, Frisk. That'll never change. Not for Asriel. Not for _anyone_ else."

The walls built around Frisk's hardened shell cracked. In the spur of the moment, she caught a glimpse of the past – Chara's caring eyes, reflecting the image of the sister she loved so dearly, looked so youthful and desperate. It was unbearable.

Frisk ran a shaky hand through her dishevelled hair, "…you really think he sees me as an obstacle?"

"I wouldn't lie to you about something like that, Frisk. I take absolutely no pleasure in telling you this. Because, y'know, I'm not blind. I could see how well you two were getting along. Honestly, it made me happy at first. I thought this might've been our chance to build a family. Pathetic, right? A mafia big shot like me without a family to protect. So foolish of me… to think a family might give my life more meaning. Nothing's ever as easy as that."

Frisk folded her arms tight over her chest, as if to strap down her beating heart. She faltered to Chara in tatters, knowing this vulnerable side of Chara was a sight only for her eyes. It was a surreal privilege, effectively denting her armour. Just a little.

"I still find it all… hard to believe…"

"I don't expect you to. I might act like I want to control your every thought, but I'll say it again… I'm just a hardass." Chara laughed boisterously, "All I want is for you to have the life you always wanted. I _know_ I can give it to you. But that won't happen if I never give you the option to think for yourself. It's up to you if you take my advice and be wary of Asriel. When it all comes down to it, I'll always trust your better judgement."

Frisk tempted to smirk, "Hm… reminds me of when you used to call me the voice of reason, while you called yourself the evil twin."

"Trust us to live up to our childhood reputations, huh?" Chara laughed again. Then, before she turned the key into ignition once more, she affectionately held the side of Frisk's cheek in her palm. Frisk flinched for a moment, then relaxed as she shared this rare intimate moment for all it was worth, "It'll always be us against the world, Frisk. I feel unstoppable with you by my side. You're family… you're everything I live for."

Before she could sob, Frisk let out an exhale in shudders. Torn by sadness and conflict, she shook out of Chara's hand with disgust for herself. Her sister was a demon, responsible for so many lost lives, but she couldn't deny the strong connection built from a childhood of loving only each other.

Finally, the car pulled away, crawling towards the streets of the inner city.

…

…

It was half an hour before midnight when Asriel arrived at Chara's home. She waited in the darkness of her kitchen, lighted only by a dull bulb in a nightstand. Her fingers stroked over the etchings in the table, made by all the times she idly played with knives out of boredom.

She barely batted an eye when she heard the symphony of slamming doors and stomping feet echo throughout the house. She hadn't looked up when Asriel burst on to the scene. His fuming expression was decorated by unkempt hair stuck to the sweat on his face.

"I'm glad you made it home safe, Asriel…"

"Bullshit!"

Chara snarled impatiently, "I've heard that word a lot today. I'm beginning to dislike it."

"What the hell was that, Chara?! You left me on the side of the road!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. We have plenty of employees ready at all times to pick you up from anywhere. All you had to do was make a quick phone call…"

"That's not the point!"

Chara lifted her head. She saw the hurt cast over his expression, as clear as day. She caught it in the way his fists were trembling, and the way he could barely look at her. Then her head tilted aside, like she was feigning ignorance.

"Are you angry because I ignored you for my sister?"

"…we haven't had a real conversation in months." Asriel responded quietly, seized by the pain in his heart. He gripped a handful of his hair, his gaze downcast to the ground, "Are you really holding me accountable for the car bomb injuring Frisk? How long are you going to keep up this grudge against me?"

"Well, that's up to me to decide, isn't it?"

"How many times do I have to apologise for you to get it?! I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know the sedan was rigged! Please, Chara… I can't take this…"

Asriel was shaking. His knees looked so weak, as if he would collapse to the ground at any moment. Slight chattering came from his teeth as they gritted together, desperate to hold back his emotions from crumbling.

The chair that Chara sat upon clattered against the ground. She stood slowly, and approached him in careful strides. When she looked him up and down, she could see how vulnerable she made him feel. His broken feelings, meant only for her, were bared nakedly for Chara to see. _He's suffered enough._

Chara gently took him in her arms. He felt so fragile in her grasp, she noticed. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, burying her fingers through the thick density of hair as she cradled his head against her own. With her lips brought to his ear, Chara whispered softly,

"It's alright now, Asriel. It's alright." She soothed, and his trembling lessened almost immediately. With a slow exhale, Chara voiced her idle thoughts, "Once again, your loyalty continues to surprise me. Why, after everything I've put you through, do you always come back to me with open arms?"

Asriel remained silent, as if he wasn't sure of the answer himself. Chara held on to him as if she hung off his clothes, affectionately nuzzling into the crook of his neck like an apology. Asriel nearly whimpered – her long eyelashes were ticklish. And her blood-soaked lips grazed his skin as she spoke,

"I've put you through absolute hell, haven't I? I'm sorry too, Asriel. I don't know how you can withstand someone like me. How miraculous to find someone like you in a unfortunate life like mine…"

"I… can withstand worse for you, Chara." He told her honestly, with a quiet voice sweetened by his devotion to her.

"How strong you are." Chara breathed compliments between light kisses, "Let's make up, okay?"

Asriel melted to her commands. As her hands wandered over his neck, she felt a rise in temperature over all the places she touched. He held her close by clutching her hips, burning the shape of her figure beneath his fingers. He worshipped her body with the graze of his touch, receiving kiss after kiss in a flare of spontaneous passion. The depth of his devotion always surprised them both, as if he kept a bottomless well of his love hidden deeply in his heart. It was moments like these that truly proved how much he belonged to Chara. She stained his soul – impossible to wash her out.

"I love you." He declared in a calm whisper, like a prayer.

"Mhm… me too…"

Asriel squeezed her tightly, desperate to hold on to this moment, "So you do… you do love me…"

"I wouldn't do this with just anyone." Chara grinned, resting her forehead against his. As her lips smoothed over his cheekbones, her hot breath brushed his skin as she asked, "How much do you love me?"

"It's… impossible to measure…"

"I'm not satisfied with that answer." Chara devilishly licked the curve of his ear, "I want to know exactly how much you love me."

Before he could react, Chara gently pushed him down on to the kitchen table. His hands refused to move away from her hips, even as she crawled on top of him. Asriel had to stifle a gasp as Chara ran her tongue down the dents of his chest. He breathed her name over and over again like a sacred chant.

"Beautiful, Asriel. Look how much you're responding to me already. I suppose it's been a while since we did it." She commented with a dangerous smile. Asriel's breathing became ragged, especially as she fluttered her skilful fingers over the thin material of his clothes. He shivered in response, and his skin burnt with sensitivity, as if her caresses set him on fire, "I'll do anything to you, Asriel. Under this roof, I'm yours completely. You know that, right?"

"Oh God." Asriel cried, his voice suddenly raw with lust.

"How much do you love me?"

"So fucking much…"

"Still not enough." Chara told him in a low growl. She brought her face up to his, her heavy-lidded eyes burrowing into his, and rested her palms tenderly around his jaw, "Do you want to satisfy me? As much as I want to satisfy you?"

"Y…. Yes, of course…"

She sat on his groin, laying her entire body seductively against his, "Would you do anything for me?"

His voice came out as unsteady breaths, "…would do anything for you…"

"Say it again. Let me hear it."

"I'd do anything for you, Chara."

And then suddenly, within seconds, Chara grabbed a hold of Asriel's wrists, and splayed them out in a position to be crucified. Her face turned to stone, expressionless with no remorse, and asked without a splinter of emotion,

" _Would you kill my sister for me?"_

Asriel suddenly seized. Frozen in shock.

Every rational thought, begging him to refuse and run, had been cast aside by Chara's overpowering control.

...so he listened.

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Eleven End. Chapter Twelve coming soon…_

* * *

 **As always, thanks for reading! So sorry again for the delayed updates. I hope you enjoyed this chapter to make up for it! More twists and turns are coming up! Leave a review, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you all soon~!**


	12. Ready To Die

Chapter Twelve :: _Ready To Die_

…

A saxophone player warmed up his instrument on the empty stage of the Underground, slowly playing a melancholic tune to mask the room in a soulful mood. Staff were wiping down table-tops and barren dancefloors. All while Frisk was tasked with handling the bar alongside her mute co-worker, Grillby.

She figured her worth had to rely on manual labour, instead of the crutch of her sister's high status in power. So she volunteered herself to help around the club, not only to grasp on to her dwindling work ethic, but also to get to know Chara's staff more personally. Frisk wondered if this was just a shallow attempt to keep a watchful eye on them… but even so, she took on the task with no questions asked. Since her heated discussion with Chara, she felt an uncomfortable distance from Asriel. It made her feel… unbearably lonely. These days she had no one around to confide in. Especially since Sans' disappearance.

While Grillby went on his lunch break, leaving Frisk alone to man the bar, Undyne entered the club. Her hair had been tucked beneath a cap, and she'd dressed casually in a discoloured jacket and jeans. Her appearance was purposely downplayed to disguise her investigation, requested personally from her bed-bound colleague Papyrus. Confidently, she walked up to the bar and ordered a soft drink. Then she carefully watched Frisk working alone.

"This place seems a little empty in the middle of the day." Undyne commented after she'd been handed her drink.

"We're just opening up." Frisk answered dismissively.

"Are you the only one here?"

"No, the rest of the crew are on break. We're just horribly understaffed. My sister owns the place, but she's out doing business. She won't be back until later."

Undyne shrugged, "I see, though she's not who I'm after. I'm actually looking for a regular patron of yours. And I was wondering if you could help me out?"

Frisk furrowed her eyebrows in response, "Sure, I'm a little new here, but I'll answer what I can."

"Thanks. Don't worry, I'm sure you know him. He's a famous kid, after all." Undyne implied with a hint of a smirk, "The mayor's son… Asriel…"

Frisk's lips tightened into a straight line as her mouth ran dry. With a brief sigh, momentarily reeling from her exasperation, she nodded to confirm,

"Yeah, he comes in sometimes. What kind of trouble has he got himself into now?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd tell me."

Frisk blinked, and arched an eyebrow, "Who are you?"

"Just an acquaintance of his family. Our mayor is concerned about his wellbeing, especially since they're not exactly on speaking terms."

Immediately after saying this, Frisk turned her gaze away. She was anxious about getting involved in Asriel's family feud, especially since the drive-by shooting proved how deadly the entire affair was. But she was mostly paranoid about how any meddlesome outsiders could end up making matters worse. If she accidentally wound up saying the wrong thing, Frisk didn't want to be held accountable for any fatal consequences. So, as her expression became sour, her tone of voice suddenly dropped low and cold,

"I'm not interested in talking to any press about politics…"

"Don't worry, I'm not the press, and politics has nothing to do with this. It's strictly an issue between family."

"I have even less to do with Asriel's family than I am with his political background. Sorry, I can't help you."

"So you're just familiar with 'the trouble he gets himself into', hm?" Undyne grinned with her teeth, "That's fine. Whatever you know about him is more than enough."

Frisk didn't know whether to trust this woman's intentions or not. She seemed intensely interested in Asriel, but less to do with his well-being and more to do with his activities. Even so, Frisk had no one else to talk to about her latest issues with Asriel. And after she began talking about the kid, Frisk unknowingly began opening up,

"…well, honestly, I don't think I know enough about him to give you what you want. I mean, I thought I had a good handle on what kind of guy he is. He has that kind of attitude where you think he's a tough guy at first. But then you realise he's just an angry kid inside like the rest of us. At least, that's what I thought he was. I just… I really thought I understood him."

"Something happened recently to make you doubt him?"

"Yeah, something like a reality check. I'm second guessing everything I've known about Asriel now. Christ, I have enough trust issues as it is! And trying to get through to someone as temperamental as Asriel… it's _really_ testing me at the moment."

"He must be a handful."

Frisk downcast her eyes sullenly, "You have no idea."

"I have an estimation of what kind of guy he is. I haven't heard many positive comments about him just yet. Apart from his dear old dad, bless him. So I'm actually surprised to hear that the place Asriel visits most often isn't favouring him well either. I would have thought this kind of joint would welcome him with open arms…"

"He's not well liked by a lot of people, including the kind of folk that you get around here." Frisk replied hastily, as she wiped the bar surface with a worn-out cloth, "Asriel has too many enemies and not enough friends. I'll be honest, he only has himself to blame for that."

"You sound bitter."

Frisk snarled in defence, "What's it got to do with you anyway?"

"Am I wrong?"

For a moment, Frisk had to cool her hot-head before answering. She knew there was no point in denying her feelings, especially when Undyne got it woefully spot on. So, as Frisk lowered her guard in defeat, she sighed with a hand running through her hair,

"No… you're not wrong. I just… I haven't really had the chance to talk to anyone about this, so… my head's a bit unclear at the moment. I don't think I'm the right person to talk to about this. Sorry."

"No, you're doing fine. If talking to me is helping at all, then by all means, lay it all on me."

"And here I thought it was the patrons who were supposed to complain to the bartenders."

"I've never been one for brandishing stereotypes." Undyne smiled whole-heartedly, "After all, where do the bartenders go when they need to complain?"

"Good point." Frisk laughed, having felt a small weight lift from her shoulders.

Undyne continued the matter at hand, "As far as I'm aware, Asriel is as distant from his own family as you can possibly get. It makes me wonder if he's found a new family to get attached to."

"You're not too far from the mark there. From what I can tell, he's left one dysfunctional family and made himself a new one. And it's not only dysfunctional. It's… completely unnatural."

Undyne frowned at that remark, "Anything outside of a traditional nuclear family can be seen as unnatural, punk. You'll have to be more specific."

"Woah, I'm not being judgemental. If you knew what he's like, you'd know exactly what I mean."

"…right. Apologies, I got a little… defensive there." Undyne retreated in guilt. She internally scolded herself to separate any personal feelings from her professional practise. So she hurriedly returned to business, "In any case, sounds like Asriel got mixed up in some kind of gang."

"I'm not sure I should be telling you any of this. You know, I'm not really involved in Asriel's life, so consider my position a little bit here. If I went around shooting my mouth off to the wrong person, things could end up going badly for me. So forgive me for being overly-cautious about the guy." Frisk remarked anxiously, and took a second to reconsider her approach. Surprisingly, she dropped her guard just a bit more, "But I guess… it's a little obvious, right? It's not as if Asriel's father has a clean record either."

Frisk recalled the attempted murder by men with tattoo symbols representing Asgore's gang. If this woman was an associate of Asgore like she said she was, Frisk could only assume she knew about his criminal background. Though, it was still a risky gamble to assume that much. Luckily, Frisk wasn't aware that Undyne had done a background check on Asgore beforehand, and she's more than familiar with his less-than-perfect record in office.

"Will you get in trouble with Asriel if he knew you were talking with me?" Undyne asked worriedly.

"I wonder… even if he knew I was talking about him to anyone… I don't think it matters. I feel as if my days are numbered if I get any closer to him."

Undyne squinted her eyes regretfully, "That's quite a serious allegation. I'm sorry to have put you in a position like this…"

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I'm used to this kind of living. Feels like I've been walking with a target on my back since the day I was born. I don't fear death at all because of that. Truthfully, it feels like I've just… always been waiting for it to come."

Undyne sympathised, and her voice softened, "You're a fearless lady. But that's no way to live. If I could offer you some form of protection, would you take it up?"

Frisk had to withhold a sarcastic laugh, "I've had those kind of offers for as long as I can remember. Pimps, gang leaders… corrupted cops, politicians… I've learnt that 'protection' is a loose word with no real meaning, used as a comforting method to help us sleep at night. No one is ever protected from danger, even if you're locked in a rubber room for the rest of your life. So no thank you. I'll have to pass up that offer."

Undyne hesitated for a moment. Now she understood where Frisk's mistrust had stemmed from. The way she behaved like a cornered animal was a little tragic to witness. It only strengthened Undyne's resolve to lend out a helping hand.

"Well, if you ever change your mind, you should have my number." Undyne casually scribbled it down on the underside of a beer mat and slid it over to Frisk, "Knowing now that you're under Asriel's threat, I can't in good conscience walk out of this bar without offering some kind of help to you. So please, take some time to consider—"

"—thanks, but I can't accept help from someone I don't even know the name of." Frisk snapped back without even regarding the beer mat.

"I may be in trouble if I told you my identity in here. This club has a reputation lately of cursing anyone who walks out of here alive. I don't want to run the risk of being kidnapped into the back of some van if I reveal too much. You understand, don't you?"

"Unfortunately, I do." Frisk grimaced, and hesitated for a moment before finally pocketing the beer mat, "Even so, I'm supposed to depend on the kindness of some sketchy stranger?"

"I'd be more than happy to tell you about myself… anywhere other than here. Give me a call sometime. I enjoy talking to you."

Frisk's eyes widened. She was caught off guard by that comment. She suddenly felt a little bashful, and averted her eyes as she replied, "Yeah… likewise. Makes a nice change."

Undyne grinned the kind of genuine smile that is almost impossible to distrust. It nearly made Frisk blush. Then, once Undyne had finally finished her drink, she lifted herself from the bar and looked over her shoulder to the lone bartender in flusters.

"Thanks for your co-operation. I hope to see you in the future, preferably while you're in safer hands. But we'll talk more about that another time, okay?"

"…sure. See you." Frisk nodded with an unenergetic wave. She'd given up the fight to defend her beliefs, and was just happy to be able to talk to someone about Asriel at last. Her thoughts felt a little more ordered, and her mind had cleared somewhat. She only hoped now that she hadn't said anything to Undyne that would backfire badly. For now, though, she decided to push those paranoid thoughts to the very back of her mind.

Meanwhile, Undyne exited the club and settled into her car, then immediately called up Papyrus at the hospital.

"Hey rookie, how's the leg?" She asked as soon as he picked up.

"It feels lighter! Just had the cast taken off today. Man, it feels as if I've dropped weight now that I don't have to carry that heavy thing around." Papyrus laughed in celebration. Undyne smirked, feeling relieved to hear her partner in such high spirits after such a long time. Though it was short-lived, as Papyrus cautiously asked, "Did you stop by the Underground today?"

"Yeah, I spoke to a bartender just now. She seemed to know Asriel quite well. I've got more information out of her than I have from all the guys I've interviewed so far. We're making some good progress, finally." Undyne exhaled in precious relief, "Seems like there's trouble in paradise, though. Even Asriel's closest peers aren't fans of the guy. If he's running any sort of illegal ring, he's doing a piss-poor job of it. Though I doubt he's the one operating anything, I have strong suspicions he's deeply involved in the network."

"Let's hope we're on the right track. If we're wrong about his involvement and he is the kingpin we're after, his operation will fall apart before we have any chance to tear it up our way – safely. Without any gang wars or unnecessary deaths. I really… _really_ don't want another repeat of Shyren's case."

"As long as we do our jobs right, it won't have to come to that." Undyne assured him gently, "Don't worry, Papyrus. You're one of the most loyal and hard-working agents I know on the force. Sans and I have _every_ confidence in you."

Undyne could practically hear Papyrus smiling in his flustered voice, "Ah, haha, of course, so you should. I am supervised by the best, after all… so thank you."

A brief moment of mutual appreciation and respect passed over the following silence from tutor and mentor, before Undyne cleared her throat and carried along the investigation.

"…so, I think we've proven enough to move forward with our next move."

"I believe so. You did great, Undyne. I've already run a warrant through the system for a GPS tracking device on Asriel's car. It'll be easier to find out if our suspicions are right if we follow his movements." As he spoke of the case, the pace of Papyrus' speech picked up along with his excitement, "I have a good feeling about this, Undyne. I'm sure he'll be the one to lead us right to the centre of his organisation. We just need to push it a little further… we're so close, I just know it…"

"I like your enthusiasm, Papyrus. We'll need it in order to pull this off."

"We will. I'm sure of it!"

…

A few hours later, Frisk was finally excused from her shift. There weren't a lot of customers that afternoon, so it was achingly dull to watch the hours stretch on by with nothing to do. It was particularly at its worst when Frisk's mind wandered, and the worries she'd ignored up until that point slowly began piling up and tormenting her. She winced from the paranoia of being placed under her sister's watchful eye, and felt horribly isolated from the rest of the staff she worked with that day. No one wanted to befriend the twin sister of their sadistic boss.

She wandered outside and lingered on the corner of the empty street, then picked out a cigarette she'd saved for the end of her shift. When she fished out her lighter, her fingers accidently brushed against the square shape of the beer mat that Undyne had handed to her. She took it out and lit up the cigarette as her eyes scanned the numbers scribbled across the centre.

With Sans gone and Asriel keeping her at a distance, Frisk felt horribly alone. Her talk with Undyne made it all the more clear to her. With all her heart, she wished she could just let go of all her anxieties and fall blindfolded into Chara's world – how easy it would be to stay silent and obedient under her sister's protection.

But she couldn't. Chara's psychotic bloodthirst coincided with how she knew to love. Frisk was suffocating from it. If she surrendered herself entirely to Chara, who knew what lengths she would take to keep Frisk from ever escaping again.

She took a long drag of her cigarette, and blew the cloud of smoke to the late afternoon horizon. Briefly, Frisk wondered if Sans was looking up at the same air-polluted sky. She missed him – that fake smile, his tired eyes, even the way he stared to hold someone's gaze. She wondered with his image in her mind – _who was he before he met Chara? What was he like when he was still on the force? Did… did he mean to hurt me with that car bomb?_

Frisk was enveloped in a loop of internal melancholy.

Until suddenly, she was enveloped in a world of complete darkness.

Her vision went black. Her wrists were quickly tied together. And her entire body had been thrust forward, and thrown mercilessly on to a metallic surface.

Before she even had a time to react or scream, the sound of wheels scratching against tarmac hissed through her ears, and she was yanked backwards against a metal wall as she felt herself moving.

"Wh… wha… what's this… what's… what's going…?"

"Shut the fuck up." A familiar voice chided her, before a large hand grabbed hold of the back of her neck and shoved her fiercely to the ground. Frisk grunted from pain as her cheek impacted on the hard metal. With her ear pressed against it, she sussed out in her frantic mind that the sounds she could hear was that of a moving vehicle. Then, she knew she'd been dragged into the back of a van and kidnapped, with a black bag hurled over her head and a rope wrapped tightly over her wrists.

With that harrowing reality dawned upon her, Frisk moaned in a frightened cry, too scared to scream and too distressed to regulate her breathing. The hand that held the back of her neck never moved, and she daren't try to wriggle her way out after hearing the terrifying echo of a cocked gun. If she'd made the wrong move, she didn't know what she'd eventually be in for.

Frisk quietly whimpered as she was held hostage the entire journey, until the van began to slow down and stop in a hushed part of town. Even as her captor grasped on to her arm and dragged her out the vehicle, Frisk withdrew the urge to make too much of a sound, except pained grunts when she was shoved to the ground.

The van sped away into the distance, leaving Frisk alone with her lone captor pacing slowly around her in a circle. Frisk shivered, trembling with her hands tied behind her back and her face buried into the floor. Her captor seemed to be assessing the situation carefully, as it took a few more minutes before he suddenly stepped forward and ripped the black bag from off her head.

Frisk gasped for air, though her breathing was still as ragged as it had been from the start. On the verge of a frenzied hyperventilation, she blinked away the escaped tears from her eyes, until her vision cleared up enough to take a deep inhale. And then she gasped like it was her last breath. For the moment she locked eyes with her captor, she recognised the long dirty-blonde locks that fell over his boyish face, and the look of cold scorn he had given her so many times before.

"…Asriel? What are… what's going… where are we? What are you doing to me?"

"We're in an abandoned warehouse on the far side of the city, so no one will be around to see what I do to you. Oh, and this wasn't ordered by Chara, if that's what you're thinking." He began lifelessly, as he traced the gun barrel of his pistol with the tip of his finger, "Though I won't hesitate to take on the role of a vigilante to ensure the safety of your sister. I'll do whatever it takes to protect her, Frisk. Even if it comes down to this…"

Slowly, he pointed the gun over Frisk's head, and she instantly quivered beneath it. Sweat broke out in buckets over her forehead as her mouth flapped in frightened chatters,

"Wh… wh-wha… wh-what the f-fuck are you talking about, Asriel?" She desperately pleaded, her eyes glistening with fresher tears, "Wh-what the hell are you protecting Chara from? From _me?_ Are you f-fucking serious right now?"

"Figured you'd be feigning ignorance right up until the very last moment." Asriel commented with cold-blooded disdain in his voice, "I'll hurry up the interrogation and just come out with the truth, alright? You've been conspiring with Sans to murder Chara behind her back. Behind _my_ back!"

"What the _fuck_ —"

"I know, right? Do you realise how much that _sucked_ to find out? After everything you told me? After everything I've told _you?_ Yeah… yeah, what the fuck, right Frisk? Seriously… what the fuck have we been doing all this time? What the fuck are we even doing right now?!"

Frisk was as confused as she was insanely afraid. Not just of the possibility of her body being lined with lead if she said the wrong thing, but also of Asriel's unstable state of being at that moment. Frisk could see the turmoil in his moistened eyes, as if it was really hurting him to do this. He was postured as if he was the one with a gun against his head, with his fingers trembling against the trigger guard in a tighter-than-necessary grip. His bottom lip quivered as he muttered 'what the fuck' through the grit of his teeth, over and over like a sacred manta.

Frisk could see the undeniable devotion he had for Chara, but was it really enough for him to kill her sister? After all this time together to bond and confide in each other, forming a comforting relationship they needed to support each other in a corrupted world of crime, Frisk had to wonder… _are you really going through with this, Asriel?_

Her sad eyes cast over to him as she pleaded one more time, "Asriel, please… whatever you've heard or whatever you think I'm doing… please believe me, you're wrong. It's all a conspiracy. I'm not working with Sans. He set a car bomb on us and I ended up in the hospital, for fuck's sake! It doesn't make sense that I'd work for a man who'd put my life on the line like that!"

Asriel winced in disbelief, "We've all had to do plenty of dangerous things for the kind of people we work for…"

"I know that, I know…"

"So shut the hell up!" He yelled, with eyes as wide as a crazed madman, "You've betrayed Chara! How can I just let you go after knowing that?!"

"I haven't betrayed anybody! Use your goddamn head for once, Asriel! Christ!" Frisk cried in frustration, which managed to silence Asriel for a moment of hesitation. Then, as rage began to build from the pits of her stomach, Frisk felt no need to hold back, "I mean, seriously, do you really think Chara would let you off easy after finding out you _murdered_ me? Her own precious sister?! Are you sure you're not just doing this to get rid of me?!"

Asriel's hands lowered in shock, "Wh… what?"

"Dumbass, you've admitted it all to me before! You're jealous about how close Chara is with me compared to you! How fucking convenient that you've latched on to this conspiracy about Sans and me to justify your petty actions! This is all just an excuse to erase me, isn't it?!" Frisk's expression suddenly lit up with an almost maddening grin, like she was laughing in the face of this morbid realisation she never wanted to face up to, "I got you figured out, Asriel… I thought I didn't, but I do now. I know you've always seen me as an obstacle. What you're doing is only proving me right! Ugh, and you say that _you're_ the one feeling betrayed… how do you think _this_ makes me feel? I'm the hurt one here! I can't believe you're really doing this to me! So go on! Get on with it! Kill me, right now! Put me out of my fucking misery! See what happens!"

Frisk seethed through unsteady heavy breaths. Her vision was clouded by red dots, like her fury had ignited the air around her. But after a few moments of unusual silence, Frisk watched in surprise as the energy drained from Asriel's face. His expression was the most downcast she'd ever seen – his eyes looked as though he was about to cry, and her frowned mouth parted as if he could barely choke out the words he wanted to say.

And when he did, his voice was coarse with raw emotion, "Alright… I am jealous of your relationship with Chara, I'm not going to deny that. But how dare you accuse me of thinking you're an obstacle between us… I never thought of you like that…"

Frisk squinted her eyes in confusion, and as she nervously spied a creeping shadow growing larger behind Asriel's figure, Frisk spat in defence, "But then… if that's not what this is about, then what is it? Are you really doing this much because you love her?"

"…yes. Of course I am." Asriel said simply, as if it was the most obvious fact in the world, "All of this… what I'm doing right now, it's all for her. I really don't get why you're so surprised about it. Haven't we talked about this over and over again? Didn't we come to an understanding about our feelings about Chara? I thought you understood me… shit, Frisk. This really fucking sucks. You don't get me at all. You never did, did you? And now look where we are. This is all so… fucked…"

"Sure is, kid."

A sudden voice echoed from behind him. Before Asriel even had a chance to react, a hand abruptly snatched the gun out of Asriel's loose grasp, and glued the barrel to the side of his head. He shivered in terror as he immediately held his hands up, and surrendered with a gulp.

"Sans!" Frisk breathed, with a smile as large as her relief.

Carefully, all whilst the gun was pointed in Asriel's direction, Sans shifted over to Frisk's side and cut through the ropes from her wrists. For a moment, she staggered to her feet, as if her legs had been reduced to jelly. She collapsed against Sans' broad back, and he steadied her as much as he could as the both of them shuffled towards the exit of the warehouse, leaving Asriel stunned in the centre with his hands frozen in the air.

Though just before they left, Sans called out to Asriel in a brisk voice, "I'd rethink your priorities before acting 'vigilante' again, kid. Take it from me, it's not as easy as it looks."

Asriel collapsed to his knees when Sans and Frisk had completely left the facility.

Once they'd fled to Sans' motorcycle, they sped out of the barren side of town and entered the bustling city. And every time they stopped at a red traffic light, Sans turned over his shoulder to quickly chat with Frisk.

"If you're wondering where we're going, I'm taking you to a hideout spot set up by a very good friend of mine. You'll meet her there, I'm sure. Toriel doesn't really like to go out much."

Frisk only nodded in compliance. Then she tightly held on to his waist once the motorcycle sped up again.

Once they greeted another stop light, Frisk weakly pulled at the sleeve of Sans' jacket and caught his attention. Her voice was uncharacteristically meek, "Were you watching us the entire time I was in that warehouse?"

"Yeah. I saw you get kidnapped by Asriel and a few of his goons, then followed you from there." Sans exhaled long and hard, caught up in the evident regret in his heart, "Hey… sorry I couldn't help you sooner. I had to know what his motives were before I could intervene. It… really didn't feel good to just watch. I'm sorry I let you go through that. But… I wouldn't have allowed you to be in any real danger, Frisk. I hope you know that."

"…thanks." Frisk quietly replied, before nestling her head into the centre of his broad back. Her fingers dug into the loose material of his jacket, and took a moment to just appreciate the fact that he was there with her. Finally. He saved her. And she was incredibly grateful. But still, she pouted, "I wish I'd known I wasn't in any real danger when I had a gun pointed in my face, y'know?"

Sans burst into morbid laughter before speeding up once again on his bike.

The sun was setting, painting the sky in beautiful marigold colours in the highlights of the clouds. Tiny spits of rain fell from the heavens, though it wasn't heavy enough to be called a rain shower. Even so, it spawned the faint arch of a rainbow at the far end of the highways they sped down. It appeared as a sort of epilogue for an incredibly odd day. Frisk balled her hands into fists into Sans' clothes. When he felt it tighten, he spoke up over the traffic,

"So… listen, don't feel hurt over Asriel, okay? He's a victim in this as much as you are."

"What are you talking about? Did you even hear anything he said back there?!" Frisk snapped incredulously.

"Yeah. But he's clearly been played. And so have you. Aren't you wondering where he got the idea that you and I have been conspiring against Chara? He didn't exactly have much evidence to stand on when he tried to argue his side."

Frisk blinked, vacantly staring at the back of his head for a moment, before reaching for her reason, "It's… it's just an idea he entertained as a justification to get rid of me… because I'm an obstacle…"

"I don't know where you got that idea from either, but I bet you didn't start to doubt him before talking it through with someone else, right?"

"…well, I… I spoke with Chara, and…"

"And there's your first mistake right there."

Sans grinned. And Frisk gasped. Her eyes widened as she resisted the urge to cover her mouth with her hands, since she was gripped too tightly on to Sans' jacket.

"Oh… oh god, Chara… it was her. All along, she made me doubt him…"

"And who do you think told Asriel about you and me?"

"Do you think Chara—"

"—yes, it was Chara. Talk about a eureka moment or what! I mean, who'd have thought a mafia boss like Chara was responsible for an elaborate manipulation game like that? It's as if she's a criminal mastermind or something!"

Frisk clicked her tongue impatiently, "I honestly don't appreciate your sarcasm right now, comedian."

"I guess you're right. I've gotta work on my timing." He grinned even wider. Despite the solemnness of her situation, Frisk was at least glad to have Sans' sense of humour to pull her out of a funk. It was one more thing about him that she missed.

"So tell me, since you've obviously got it all figured out, why would Chara want Asriel and I to fight like this? Did she predict that Asriel would try to kill me? What was she trying to get out of all this?"

"Well, it's not my place to dissect the unpredictable mind of a psychotic kingpin, but it's my guess that she sees your friendship with Asriel as a threat to her. So it was her aim to turn you two against each other. I can't imagine she was very supportive of how close you two were getting."

As he said this, Frisk immediately recalled the time Chara had embraced Asriel in front of her, almost like a territorial act to claim what was hers. Frisk shifted uncomfortably on the bike seat, as if she remembered the feeling of being completely overpowered.

"No, you're right. Chara was very… obvious about how she felt about us."

Frisk fell silent for a short time, basking in her misery as she barely had any energy left to believe in anything. Her carefully placed trust in others always fell short, and by the end of it all, she was left feeling hopeless and humiliated. She couldn't stand the sight of herself in the reflections of the puddles beneath her. Instinctively, she buried her face into Sans' back, resisting the urge to scream. Sans only rode onwards, silently grateful that she was finally safe by his side.

Meanwhile, Asriel emerged from the warehouse and lingered on the outside, until he received a call from Chara like he'd expected. He let it ring for a short time before answering, and her familiar breathy voice sounded out,

"…I saw it all from the rooftop of the warehouse beside yours. You did very well, Asriel."

He was silent. Unsure of what to say. Chara didn't clock this behaviour as unusual, and moved on immediately,

"Now that phase one is completed successfully, we can move on to phase two. Let's meet up back at the Underground and we'll talk it out from there."

Chara had hung up the call before Asriel could even bother to respond. Either way, he felt a sense of emptiness and loss that he hadn't felt for a long while.

…

The next morning arose, and Frisk woke up in a run-down apartment on the outskirts of the unknown part of town. She was still exhausted out of her mind, but even so, she shuffled into an over-sized shirt that Toriel had left her in the drawers and emerged out of her room into the kitchen. It was much too cramped, with a round table and two bench chairs sitting beneath a small boxed window slightly opposite the kitchen appliances. There was barely enough space to move.

Sans sat wistfully on one of the two chairs, with a cold cup of coffee sat beside him. It was full, but it looked like it hadn't even been glanced at. His lifeless eyes lacked any will to breathe, and the shadows beneath his sockets were as prominent as ever. Even then, immediately after he saw Frisk, he smirked with a sarcastic laugh,

"You ever heard of a hair brush, kid?"

Frisk shot him a dirty look, despite her features breaking out in a tender smile.

She moved slowly to the other side of the table, before perching on the empty chair with her hands folded between her legs. Both of them sat in an emotionless silence for a few moments, as if it was too much energy to even speak. Neither of them were sure of what to say, nor how to approach to the other the way they really wanted. It was as if the air grew heavy, and the dancing dust motes in the morning light added to the sombre mood they'd both succumbed to.

Until Frisk worked up the remaining courage she had to turn herself around, and finally ask,

"Are you okay?"

Sans only turned his head with a faint lift of his eyebrows, "…are you?"

Frisk smiled, and shook her head slowly. "No."

"I see. Neither am I."

Sans idly stroked the handle of his ice-cold coffee cup as they both shared in the mutual weight of their sorrow. It was comforting in that sense to allow someone else into their space and shoulder some of that pain. Though they hurt in vastly different ways, it helped to experience it in joint solitude. It was less lonely. It was what they needed.

"Sans…" Frisk started, with her hands laid flat on the table-top, "I'm really sorry… about Papyrus…"

He barely even reacted. His finger continuously traced the slender shape of the cup as his gaze remained downcast at the chilled coffee inside.

"I'm sorry about the car bomb. I didn't intend to hurt you." His voice was low, lathered with regret.

His fingers paused the bottom of the cup. Frisk took this moment to cautiously lean forward, and stretch her hand out to touch over his. When the tips of her fingers gently curled over towards his open palm, Sans stared silently at their hands. Intertwined. It was the kind of intimacy that was completely foreign to him – having someone else's contact like that and have it really _mean_ something. It was warm, like a low flame. It was honest, and genuine. It spoke more than whatever Frisk could ever think to say at that moment.

But it was too much. Sans pulled away, gently as to not hurt her feelings.

"Don't do that. Please." He quietly said, with an expression like he'd been burned, "I'm sorry. I can't get close to anyone."

"I'm not going to get hurt by getting close to you." Frisk softly assured him, but despite her attempts to inch nearer to him, Sans winced once more.

"That's… not what I meant." He corrected her, and cast his gaze to the ground as he finally admitted, "It's me. I… don't want to get hurt by being close to anyone else. I can't handle it anymore."

"Sans…" Frisk affectionately called out to him.

"I feel like I owe you a lot after what I've put you through, Frisk. To this day, I still blame myself for being the one to reunite you with Chara. You might believe that it was inevitable to meet her again, but for me… that doesn't stop the demons at night." Sans slouched back against the chair as if invisible arms were holding him there at will. Frisk felt something in her chest tightening. "So… I want to at least give you some explanation to why we can't… why we just can't…"

"Sans, please, don't. Don't think like I expect anything from you." Frisk urged him with a sad smile, "I'd have told you that you'd go bald with worry, but…"

He laughed woefully. And kept up his grin, as he appreciated so much for her attempt to lighten him up with the kind of bad jokes he always enjoyed. He appreciated her for a lot of things he never acknowledged before. The depth of his feelings for her were a surprise to him even then. Like a dangerous chasm he daren't go near.

So he turned his approach around into a way that felt right to him.

"Frisk… I want to tell you about the time… I spent with Gaster."

…

…

…

* * *

 _Chapter Twelve End. Thirteen coming up…_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading so far! This story won't be forgotten any time soon. I'm determined to finish it! I hope you'll stick around for the ride! See you again soon~!**


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